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Well it got so hot, last night |
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I swear, you couldn't hardly breathe |
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Heat a lightning burnt the sky like alcohol |
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I sat on the porch without my shoes and |
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I watched the cars roll by |
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As the headlights raced to the corner of the kitchen wall |
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Well mama dear your boy is here, far across the sea |
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Waiting for that sacred core that burns inside of me |
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And I feel a storm all wet and warm not ten miles away |
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Approaching my |
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Mexican home |
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Well my God |
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I cried, it's so hot inside, you could die in the living room |
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Take the fan from the window, prop the door back with a broom |
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Well the cuckoo clock has died of shock and the windows feel no pane |
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The air's as still as the throttle on a funeral train |
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Well mama dear your boy is here, far across the sea |
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Waiting for that sacred core that burns inside of me |
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And I feel a storm all wet and warm not ten miles away |
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Approaching my |
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Mexican home |
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My father died on the porch outside on an |
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August afternoon |
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I sipped bourbon and cried with a friend by the light of the moon |
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So it's hurry, hurry, step right up, it's a matter of a life or death |
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Well the sun is going down and the moon is just holding its breath |
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Well mama dear your boy is here, far across the sea |
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Waiting for that sacred core, that burns inside of me |
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And I feel a storm all wet and warm not ten miles away |
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Approaching my |
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Mexican home, all approaching my |
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Mexican home |
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All approaching my |
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Mexican home |
