She was just some Spanish Tart
Seeing her cavort you couldn"t know she had no heart

One long ago night I lent her my kanky
For a nose drippin' and runny

She's now my hot tamale named Spanish Rose
She's mine and everybody's honey

Picked her up one night in old San Juan
That is one night I shouldn't have tied one on

How was I to know she's a tamale that soon would make me sick
All day long everytime it get quiet the castinets begin to click

I should shoo her off to Havana
I'm sure she could find work strippin' in some Cabana

Even now I don't see why the call her Spanish rose
Ponocchio had nothing on her when it came to a nose

Want a Latin lover, better heed my advice
Take one and you'll get a heart cold as ice

You dance the bolero and before you can spin her around
Here'll come every Johnny-on-the-spot in town

She'll inflame you but what man could blame you
For worshipping Spanish rose

Not Danish
Not British

Not Swedish
Not Yiddish

But Spanish . . . . . . . ish
Rose