by Jason C Randall
Tijuana brothel
It's a cold dark Sunday night
I left my woes
and drowned my sorrows
But now I feel all right
Tijuana brothel
Maria walks inside
She broke apart
From her trailer park
She has nothing left to hide
Tijuana brothel
Sins are the daily bread
We sit in silence
Then close our eyes
And alas we bow our heads
Tijuana brothel
This place that some call home
It hides the crooks
And provides a nook
For us, the lesser known
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