Port-au-Prince (Travels With Bettie Page)

Small town beauty baby Would-be movie queen In '47, it seemed like heaven Time to take it overseas She beat it to the island Of rum, romance and dreams But Papa Doc's old choppin' block Soon was gonna change the scene Peering through the midnight vines The pointed knives and the painted faces smile Demon rum and beating drums Untie the beast that's been there all her life And all the while... Winding through the curves in a big convertible Trying to hide her eyes from the Haitian sun But he left you cold in a blue eyed trance, girl You better run now 'cause you gonna get no second chance In Port-au-Prince Crooked jet set livin' With gold-toothed diplomats Umbrella drinks, the whole thing stinks Flipped a switch and that was that Hey dark-hair Yankee lady Please to suivez-moi I look into that big cat's eyes and I know what you come here for Peering through the midnight vines... Too bad little Bettie But know it's time to leave Your Yankee clout has just run out They're gunnin' in the street Crowded prop plane hummin' Bound for NYC The voodoo rite she saw that night Baby how it set you free