Standing like a statue waiting for the train In front of the cigarette vendor Slicking back his hair looking at the machine Reflecting like a mirror Pulling up his collar to avoid the breeze Of the oncoming bullet Taking inventory of the things he needs He's checking out his wallet Standing before our eyes straight and tall Here comes your hero, stand in line Straight as an arrow, stand in line The mother's son, as perfect as his pompadour A Spanish-American lover Heading from the East into West LA He has to dance La Bamba So sophisticated is the French cologne He borrowed from his father Just another pistol, waiting for someone To come and pull the trigger So let his bullet fly through the air He'll take you home, stand in line If you deserve him, stand in line That perfect stranger, stand in line If you deserve him, stand in line