I used to sleep in bed with mamá 
porque I was afraid of the dark
y pues afraid of being alone.
Time moved through masa at Angelita’s.

Masa, masa y más masa.

Nice lady in red lipstick, who
bought me dulces y held hands with father 
y the look on mamá’s face when I told her.

Masa, masa y más masa.

Paco Stanley’s little jingle on
constant loop in my mind.
Hips swaying back and forth in front of the mirror. 
Pigtails y lentes de sol.

Masa, masa y más masa.

Mamá’s cocker spaniel kept 
knocking me down against the 
laundry room concrete floor, y yet 
I’ll always miss him the most.

Masa, masa y más masa.

Grande, hot air balloon piñata 
swings back hard, y I’m in the way. 
Y knocks me straight to 
E.E.U.U.S.A.