When I was in Bolivia
I met this girl named Olivia.
She said, You know me
I don't work for free
Some pesos you'll have to give-mea.
I gave her a bunch of mon-eya
So I could have some fun-ea
But she up and fled
Right outta my bed
Said, See you on a day more sun-eya.
So to get some restitution
I went to the cop's institution
They said, This is a bust
‘Cause she's one of us
This was a test
And you're under arrest
For soliciting prostitution.
It seemed like it was a trap
And that sure was a very bad rap.
Because she had been quite tricky
And had slipped me a mickey
Now I have to put up with this crap.
So here I sit in this foreign jail
With not a soul to go my bail
Be careful whom you meet
Upon the street
And don't fall for a femme fatale.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem