Bertie Higgins - The Tropics lyrics

So you've come to the Tropics And heard all you had to do Was sit in the shade of a coconut glade The pesos rolling to you They told you that at the border But get your directions straight Hear what it did to another kid Before you decide your fate I started out to be honest Put everything on the square But a boy can't fool with the Golden Rule With a crowd that won't play fair It was a case of winning in a dirty race Or dying with a losing hand My only hope was to steal the dope The horse of another man The Tropics, they're worse than the habit The burning, blazing sun You break away and swear you'll stay The Tropics call - and back you come I pulled a deal down in Brazil In an Inca silver mine Before they found it was salted ground I was safe in Argentine I ran a weight in reefer freight 'Round Cuba into the Keys I gave my soul in pirate's gold Trying to buy myself free They called me a soldier of fortune But I sold myself like a who*e Peddling booze through the Santa Cruz and Winchester 44's Made unafraid by my drunken aid The ba*tards came roaring down And left in a shivering, blazing ma** A tiny border town The Tropics, they're worse than the habit The burning, blazing sun You break away and swear you'll stay The Tropics call - and back you come I was next in charge of a smuggler's barge In the Straits of Yucatan But she sunk in a hole off Mexico One night in a hurricane I got to shore on a broken oar In the filthy shrieking dark And the other two of the good ship's crew Became a banquet for the shark On a fiery hot, flea ridden cot I was dying with the yellow jack Alone in the sun and damn near done She found me and pulled me back She came like the Virgin Maria And opened my fevered eyes Upon me shone a brand new dawn As I turned my face to the sky The Tropics, they're worse than the habit The burning, blazing sun You break away and swear you'll stay The Tropics call - and back you come There was pride and grace in her brown young face For hers was the blood of kings In her eyes shone the glory of empires gone She was wearing the devil's ring You see these punctures in my arm You know what they mean They were left right there by my lady fair Ms. Morphine I was dealt the eights and aces Some call the dead man's hand God knows I'm not the one to blame For I'm only a mortal man Whatever you play, whatever the way For stakes that are large or small The claws of the tropics will gather your pile The dealer gets it all The Tropics, they're worse than the habit The burning, blazing sun You break away and swear you'll stay The Tropics call - and back you come