Juan says she's a funny kind of girl 
Who sits on rooftops to escape the world 
She smokes her cigarettes and keeps a journal 
Dreaming of the day she'll fly to Londres 

She lives with her folks in East L.A. 
She goes up to Hollywood to hear bands play 
She listens to Smiths cassettes and 
Robos with her friends on Friday nights 
Killin' time 'til the big flight 

And she'll leave all the smog behind 
As the 747 starts to climb away 
In the big sky 
And the Virgin Atlantic life 
Will banish all the fear and all the strife 
As it takes her to Londres 

Some cholos shot Flaco yesterday 
His wife has a little baby on the way 
Last night she heard helicopters 
It seems she hears them 
Every other day 
C'est muy mala suerte