These lyrics, from the album Cuban Candles, tell the story of my family's exile from Cuba… and my take on things since. Expect some weirdness. Lob and Respect, Jorge SFO 2007 1. NOBODY TOLD HER - 2. EL DICHOSO - 3. CUBAN CANDLES - 4. EL CAPITAN - 5. MENTIROSO - 6. LITTLE MAYBE MONSTER - 7. JARDIN DE LA VERDAD - 8. MAURICIO - 9. JINETERO - 10. BETTER OFF NOBODY TOLD HER Two Cuban girls stood on the tarmac They thought for sure that they’d be coming back A New York wind took my mami’s hat,“Dejalo que se vaya”(Let it go) Pero no, nunca lo dejo (But she never let it go). She started working at 16 when Havana was Vegas just off the Keys And Americanitas up in NYC were giving it up for the mambo kings When Che got done doing Kerouac a And Castro made good on his coming back Tanks rolled over Cadillacs a A nd the Kennedy boys just showed their ass Nobody told her, she’d be there Nadie le dijo, she’d be so scared. El mismo vino, la misma sangre, admiro mucho a mi madre Por criarme sin mi papa, por darme Cuba, Cuba, Cuba The same wine, the same blood, I admire my mother very much For raising me without my father, for giving me Cuba So I know I don’t gotta tell her just how much la viña del nombre, La viña del nombre produce (the vinyard of one’s name produces). Nobody told her... (top) EL DICHOSO/The BADASS Yo lo veo de muchachito cargando con su carreton El Dichoso Navarrito llendo acia El Malecon I see him as a young boy hauling his cart Bad-ass lil’ Navarro, heading toward the Malecon El Caballero de Paris* he wanna talk to me Tell me not to be no maricon. El jugaba a los caballitos, alli perdio su dinero El Dichoso Navarrito pago al garrotero He gambled on horses, that’s how he lost his money Bad-ass lil’ Navarro had to pay the loanshark El Caballero de Paris he wanna talk to me Tell me not to be no maricon. Si la montaña no se mueve, a la montaña I must run   (If the mountain will not move, to the mountain I must run) My momma told me to confront you, she said “Tell him you're his only son” I won't pay his bills. Le gustaban a los cigarritos, aprobaba con los tragos El Dichoso Navarrito, pa’ ganar hay que ser mago He liked his cigarettes, he would wager with drinks Bad-ass lil’ Navarro, to win you gotta be magic El Caballero de Paris he wanna talk to me...  *The Gentleman From Paris, a famous street character in Havana. (top) CUBAN CANDLES It was dark that night when the lights went out back home in Miami. I must have been five years old my mami said a storm was coming. My papi, he sat at that table, I could smell his whiskey breath, His shadow came over me, as he turned around and said, me dijo: Nunca dejes una vela encendida. Never leave a candle burning. Abuela made black beans and rice, which I ate in the Florida room My papi stuffed his mouth and spoke his mind like an open wound He told me of a war he fought between his legs, within his heart He told me I would fight the very one, just not in Cuba. He grew up to leave his life/on an island that held more Than his hope and his Cuban pride/dashed on rocks along the shore… Nunca dejes una vela encendida. Never leave a candle burning. At the time I did not know what he spoke of in the candle’s glow Unattended flame, a fatal, fatal loss of joy. History was that flame, burnt away in the eyes of a boy Wasted like my papi was. Scattered like my toys. He grew up to leave his life… (top) EL CAPITAN/THE CAPTAIN Esto es pa’ mi vino, esto es pa’ mi pan, Esto es pa’ mi padre, que era el capitan This is for my wine, this is for my bread This is for my father, who was a captain He was a macho sailor, Havana Cuban man Even though he no speaka the Englistch He was a lady’s man. He went to Costa Rica, he sailed to Panama Haciendo me muchos hermanitos, pero no con mi mama (Making me lots of brothers, but not with my mother) But far across the ocean there was a port of call It was his home. It would be his fall. Esto es pa’ mi vino, esto es pa’ mi pan, Esto es pa’ mi padre, que era un capitan He was such a drinker he brought the sea to land Poured its salt on my mama’s wounds with the back of his hand. (top) MENTIROSO/LIAR Soy un mentiroso. I am a liar. Llora, llora, cry for your love, let the tears roll down your face The one that I just lied to, the very one I would disgrace. I am the world’s greatest liar, of this I won’t be denied I fill you up with hope and desire until the truth I can no longer hide. Soy un mentiroso. In the stillness of a summer’s night, the bug you hear is not the one that bites I am a snake lying in the grass, I go to work when you turn your back. To all the lies that I ever told, and this is not just an empty boast I love you all, I gave you birth, I’m at my best when you do your worst. Soy un mentiroso. If and when the truth comes out, I don’t want to talk about it All my cheating and my messing around, I guess I can’t live without it. The truth is that I lie… Soy un mentiroso. To all the lies that I ever told, and this is not just an empty boast I got more where that came from, so why don’t I just give you some? (top) LITTLE MAYBE MONSTER She tells me that she doesn’t sleep at night; every little noise pins her to the bed. Something brushes up against her feet a voice slithers up to her head The coulda-shoulda-woulda little maybe monster was having a nightmare, saying “mommy, can I sleep with you? Pesadillas (nightmares), I’m feeling kinda’ scared.” There goes my sympathy, a halogen angel making a sweep, A star is named for me every night I sleep alone The coulda-shoulda-woulda little maybe monster has been around for years. His papi, her anxiety, falls asleep after only one beer Momma says she wants to leave him, ella quiere dormir con los angelitos(she wants to sleep with the little angels). She can’t, because I cling to her feet There goes my sympathy, a halogen angel making a sweep... The coulda-shoulda-woulda little maybe monster has got an Oedipal thing with his mommy, as he spoons her, in her ear he softly sings “Mami, no me dejes, no solito con my fears (don't leave me all alone with my fears). Don’t you know my love for you is as hot as your tears.” There goes my sympathy, a halogen angel making a sweep... (top) EL JARDIN DE LA VERDAD/THE GARDEN OF TRUTH Yo no se lo que decir cuando vienes por aca It’s your garden that I see, cuando veo belleza I don’t know what to say when you come around here It’s your garden that I see when I see beauty Dejame decirte, dejame cantar De la flor de mi vida en el jardin de la verdad Let me tell you, let me sing Of the flower of my life in the garden of truth Pa’ ser buen jardinero te tienes que fijar De cada rosa, espinita, de cada lagrima To be a good gardener you have to care For every rose, every little thorn, every single teardrop Dejame decirte… A cada matica, la tienes que aguar Dale mano, dale campo, pa’ que cresca You have to water each little plant Give some effort, give some space, so that it can grow Dejame decirte… (top) MAURICIO Abuela stood on the balcony, she was waving, like the Pope, at me And my sister who loved Disco, yeah, she loved Disco… We were walking to school one day, she was only in the tenth grade When she asked me if I’d go with her on a date. Of course, I’d be the chaperone—to keep my eye on Mauricio. He was tall.  He was black. I’d be goin’ “Why is that?” You’re in Miami now, not Nuyorico. The Souwesera* mentality is what my sister, she want to see She would ask “Are you from Hialeah?” He’d say “Mira, mija: Soy un pobre campesino, en tu tierra undo mis manos Asi te llevo bajo mis uñas, asi bajo mis uñas” Look girl: I'm a poor country boy, into your earth I sink my hands That’s how I carry you, underneath my nails Watch him make his move, get a good view, maybe sit one or two rows in back. I never knew a tongue could roll like that. “Buy me popcorn y no le digo nada a mi mama.” Que extraña fue esa pelicula (Buy me popcorn and I won't say anything to my mom. How strange that movie was)… Strange like the books you can't read. Strange like that Spanish that you speak. Strange like the gold on your front teeth. Strange like the movie you did not see. Cause you were busy with my sister. It’s never as easy as it looks: The color of your skin, the cover of your books This much we both did know, me and Mauricio. When you're down in Miami and a club won't let you in, remember Cuba, where the dollar will lighten your skin. Y si quieres ser mas blanco, vete pa’l banco. (And if you want to be whiter, go to the bank.) *Souwesera = Southwest Miami; as Cubans became more upwardly mobile they moved southwest, out of Hialeah and into neighborhoods like Coral Gables and Kendall. (top) JINETERO* Por La Havana, La Havana Vieja anda el jinetero Ganandose la vida con la extranjera Around Old Havana the jinetero wanders Earning his living off the foreign women Baila, baila, jinetero, dale otra clase Sabado de la rumba es parte del disfraze Dance, dance jinetero, give her another lesson Saturday night Rumba is part of the disguise Se encontro con ella en la Plaza de la Revolucion A esa Americana la traisiono He met up with her in the Plaza de la Revolucion He betrayed that American woman Por la Havana, La Havana Vieja anda el jinetero Ganandose la vida con la extranjera… *Jinetero = literally “jockey,” but in contemporary Cuba a jinetero is a hustler of tourists. (top) BETTER OFF Pa’ los Cubanos que me entienden, Les digo quel idioma es una mascara. El corazon tambien disfraza buenas intenciones De eso voy a cantar. To all the Cubans who understand me, I tell you that language is a mask. The heart, it too disguises its good intentions That’s what I’m going to sing about. No se si debo dar consejos con todos mis fracasos (I don’t know if I should give advice with all of my fuck ups) With all that I have lost. Sera mejor enamorase de la tristeza… It would be better to fall in love with sadness… You'd be better off It's worth repeating: you'll make mistakes… The heart it, too, has its surprises, disguises, good intentions All the hidden costs. Sera mejor enamorarse de la tristeza You'd be better off It's worth repeating: You'll make mistakes… (top) Stories and Songs by J. Navarro Musica by J. Navarro and TCC © J. Navarro/ASCAP