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"The cops had the boys Up against the car Down Santa Monica Boulevard Baby food for the rich and sick Thank LA for spawning it High pile hair Low slung breasts The big hung boy The deep cut dress Ran a chicken ranch For a guy named Tex Didn't know who Tex Would bring home next One from a slum One who was a bum One on the run And somebody's son One whose mother was in on the kick Baby food for the rich and sick There's cops at the hatch But she doesn't even hear She's too busy practising Santeria Oh Chango Chango Oh Chango Chango Chango Chango won't you bring me luck Plenty of money Oh yes! And a little bit of love Trussed up tight On a mattress of thorns Four limbs tied to the corner of the bed Mummy's goodbyes ringing in my head Mummy's goodbyes ringing in my head Goodbye, Goodbye There's someone at the till And someone at the tools Hot brand iron And a collar of steel Somebody put my name on a runaway list I never thought I'd get caught like this She's down below at a coconut shrine Cryin' Chango Chango won't you bring me a man A man who is clean Who never acts mean And you know where he's been Someone from a dream that is Someone who'll take me away from here ME! The finest Madame in Mexico City Being Den Mother in a nursery I'd like to put them out of their misery But a gun to the temple don't seem like me I'd like to put them out of their misery But a gun to the temple don't seem like me "