Carmen de España

I am Carmen from Spain
A cigar maker, from Seville
And to the handsome men of Triana
I make them walk on their heads
But the story is not true
That a Frenchman wrote about me
To whom I would turn into a stew
If I were to see him again
I would use him as a cameo
If I crossed the Pyrenees

Carmen from Spain, manola
Carmen from Spain, brave
Carmen with a train dress
But Christian and decent
I don't know who El Escamillo was
Nor Don Jose either
And I don't handle the knife
Not even at mealtime
I have fire in my eyelashes
When I look at the guys
I am Carmen from Spain
And not Merime's
And not Merime's

They have sung me in the theater
Just like they did to Traviata
But I warn more than four
That I'm going to mess up
Because it annoys me to no end
That there's a fake Carmen out there
Who doesn't look like me
From head to toe
I would play the tambourine