I think it's more like:
Caught between the twisted stars, the plotted lines, the faulty map that brought Columbus to New York - betwixt between the East and West, he comes to her with leather vest - the earth screams and shudders to a halt: A diamond crucifix in his ear he used to help ward off the fear that he has left his soul in someone's...rented car. Inside his pants he hides a mop to clean the mess that he has dropped into the life of lithesome Juliette Bell. Romeo had Juliette. Juliette had her Romeo. Romeo Rodriguez squares his shoulders and curses "Jesus," runs his hands through his black pony-tail. He's thinking of his lonely room, the sink that by his bed gives off a stink, and he smells the perfume in her hair and her voice was like a bell. Outside the streets are steaming. Crack dealers are dreaming of an Uzi someone had scored. "I betcha I could hit that light with my one good arm behind my back," says little Joey Diaz, "brother give me another tote those downtown hoods are no damn good those I-talians need a lesson to be taught." This cop who died in Harlem, you'd think they'd get the warnin' - I was dancing when his brains run out on the street. And Romeo had Juliette. And Juliette had her Romeo. You can take Manhattan in a garbage bag with Latin written on it that says, "it's hard to give a shit these days." Manhattan's sinking like a rock into the filthy Hudson what a shock. They wrote a book about it, they said it was like ancient Rome. The perfume burned his eyes holding tightly to her thighs and then something flickered for a minute and then it vanished and was gone.
I think it's more like: Caught between the twisted stars, the plotted lines, the faulty map that brought Columbus to New York - betwixt between the East and West, he comes to her with leather vest - the earth screams and shudders to a halt: A diamond crucifix in his ear he used to help ward off the fear that he has left his soul in someone's...rented car. Inside his pants he hides a mop to clean the mess that he has dropped into the life of lithesome Juliette Bell. Romeo had Juliette. Juliette had her Romeo. Romeo Rodriguez squares his shoulders and curses "Jesus," runs his hands through his black pony-tail. He's thinking of his lonely room, the sink that by his bed gives off a stink, and he smells the perfume in her hair and her voice was like a bell. Outside the streets are steaming. Crack dealers are dreaming of an Uzi someone had scored. "I betcha I could hit that light with my one good arm behind my back," says little Joey Diaz, "brother give me another tote those downtown hoods are no damn good those I-talians need a lesson to be taught." This cop who died in Harlem, you'd think they'd get the warnin' - I was dancing when his brains run out on the street. And Romeo had Juliette. And Juliette had her Romeo. You can take Manhattan in a garbage bag with Latin written on it that says, "it's hard to give a shit these days." Manhattan's sinking like a rock into the filthy Hudson what a shock. They wrote a book about it, they said it was like ancient Rome. The perfume burned his eyes holding tightly to her thighs and then something flickered for a minute and then it vanished and was gone.