I stepped off the bus today to find a rather disheveled looking man with wild, tangled jet black hair circling around and around the bus stop on a broken child's bicycle with a sagging rear tire. He was singing:
(to the tune of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow")
No tengo nada dinero,
No tengo nada dinero,
No tengo nada dinero,
dinero, dinero, dinero.
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1 comment:
Sounds like a good attitude to me. Si no tiene dinero, mejor cantar. Suzy
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