Papaya, Papaya

When I was a young girl I would walk along the street
Down at the market, where they spoke a language I could never speak,
I'd listen to the music of their voices wafting through the air,
And try my best to start a conversation.
I'd say:

Papaya, papaya, pineapple
Cantaloupe, watermelon.
Papaya, papaya, pineapple,
Cantaloupe, watermelon.


One day I met a handsome boy who sold fish on the corner,
He smiled and spoke in words I could not understand.
I looked at him, a sideways glance, and with a nod and wink
I blurted out the only words that I could think of.
I said:

Papaya, papaya, pineapple
Cantaloupe, watermelon.
Papaya, papaya, pineapple,
Cantaloupe, watermelon.


I suddenly felt shy and so I bolted down the alleyway,
And he came chasing right along behind me.
Caught me by the elbow, nearly knocked me off my feet,
And with the little breath he had left, he laughed out.
He said:

Papaya, papaya, pineapple
Cantaloupe, watermelon.
Papaya, papaya, pineapple,
Cantaloupe, watermelon.


A month or two passed by and then he led me round the corner,
Sat me on a bench and looked me in the eye.
He knelt down on one knee and opened up a sparkling box,
He slid the ring onto my finger as he said:

Papaya, papaya, pineapple
Cantaloupe, watermelon.
Papaya, papaya, pineapple,
Cantaloupe, watermelon.


It's twenty years now that we have been married to this day,
And we have seven lovely children.
On Sunday afternoons we all gather in the living room,
Around our oldest girl at the piano.
And we all sing:

Papaya, papaya, pineapple
Cantaloupe, watermelon.
Papaya, papaya, pineapple,
Cantaloupe, watermelon.




copyright Heather Blush 2006.