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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