D Pancho Lopez
Born in Chihuahua in 1903, On a serapi out under a tree,
He was so fat, he could hardly see,
He could eat 12 tacos, when he was only three,
Pancho, Pancho Lopez, he come from Old Mexico.
When he was seven, he could shoot his gun,
Ride his burrow, till the day was done,
But when there’s work to do, why Pancho he run,
He go out a grinning, to sleep out in the Sun.
Pancho, Pancho Lopez, you lazy son of a gun.
Come the revolution, & Pancho he got sore,
He go with Pancho Villa, to fight in the war.
But Pancho he don’t like, this risky chore,
He come back to Chihuahua and he sleeps some more,
Pancho, Pancho Lopez, He lie in the Sun and snore.
When he wake up, his sleeping all done,
The wetback movement, had just begun,
So he packed his guitar, the son of a gun,
And he come to Arizona, to follow the sun.
Pancho, Pancho Lopez, he swim across the Rio grande.
Pancho he worked, ‘til he almost dropped,
Out in the fields, he picked the crops,
He came to Beatitudes, and he opened up,
A taco stand, and his troubles, they stop.
Pancho, Pancho Lopez, the king of Plaza View.
So if you’re ever, in the Plaza View Lounge,
Go to the Dining Rm, and there he’ll be found,
Selling his tacos, and his beans by the pound.
Old Chihuahua, it was never like this,
Pancho, Pancho Lopez, the hero of Beatitudes.
