|Listen to Dean on the right while reading|
Miami in the 1960's was no place for a young boy on the streets. The Cuban mafia had emigrated from Havana and without direction a boy like me was destined to be a sacrificial soldier in their wars.
But she took me off the streets of Little Havana when no other would and guided me from bastard to man. I guess it's not quit the childhood one reads about or hopes for; but for me she was a savior.
And so whenever that waitress tells me "honey, let me make a fresh pot for you," I kindly say "no, just let me have the burned coffee" and I smile and remember a rose who loved me and who I adored so many years ago.
I don't know why but I thought of this song when I saw this picture. I've always liked this group and they hail from a town just down the road a piece from me! :) Please take a listen!