(HECTOR:)
Well, everyone knows Juanita
Her eyes each a different color
Her teeth go out and her chin goes in
And her... knuckles, they drag on the floor
(CHICHARRÓN, parlé:)
Those aren't the words
(HECTOR, soupirs)
There are children present!
(Chanté:)
Her hair is like a briar
She stands in a bow-legged stance
And if I weren't so ugly, she'd possibly give me a chance