Lyrics

Funky Bananas

Her name is Margarita
And her hair's a little gray.
She has lost her girlish figure.
She owns a tropical cafe.
It's located in a part of town
Where the grown men go to play.

She's not a fresh spring chicken,
Nor a bitter winter hag.
She was not a super model.
Nor a ragged gutter skag.
But the men found her attractive
Until her chest began to sag.

She'd say to all the boys,
"I'm waiting for a shipment
Of fresh fruit from Trinidad.
Don't eat those funky bananas.
Those bananas have gone bad.
Those bananas made my monkey sick,
And, you know, that makes me sad."

They say she once was dating
An abusive petty crook.
She really tried to help him but
She didn't have what it took.
So she opened up a cafe
'Cause that girl could really cook.

She keeps her cheese in a tackle box,
Her salsa in a sack.
She stores frijoles in a suitcase.
Tortillas are kept out back.
She attracted all the young men's eyes
Until her hands began to crack.

She said to the boys,
"I'm waiting for some fresh fruit
To come in from Trinidad.
Don't eat those funky bananas.
Those bananas have gone bad.
They made my monkey crazy,
And that makes me very sad."

Solo

One day her jilted boyfriend
Stormed into her cafe.
His yelling and his screaming
Chased everyone away.
So, no one really knows for sure
What happened there that day.

But they say she calmly faced him.
Though they don't know what she said.
His anger dissipated
And he sat down to be fed.
Then she served him buttered slices
Of fresh banana bread.

She told the boys in blue,
"I was waiting for a shipment
Of fresh fruit from Trinidad.
Don't eat those funky bananas.
Those bananas have gone bad.
They killed my crazy monkey.
But I'm done with being sad.