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Senor, senor, do you know where we're heading? |
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Lincoln County Road or Armageddon? |
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Seems like I been down this way before |
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Is there any truth in that, senor? |
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Senor, senor, do you know where she is hiding? |
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How long are we gonna be riding? |
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How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door? |
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Will there be any comfort there, senor? |
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There's a wicked wind still blowin' on that upper deck |
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There's an iron cross still hanging down from around her neck |
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There's a marching band still playing in that vacant lot |
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Where she held me in her arms one time and said, "Forget me not" |
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Senor, senor, I can see that painted wagon |
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I can smell the tail of the dragon |
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Can't stand the suspense anymore |
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Can you tell me who to contact here, senor? |
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Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled |
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Was that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field |
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A gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring |
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Said, "Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing" |
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Senor, senor, you know their hearts is as hard as leather |
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Well, give me a minute, let me get it together |
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I just gotta pick myself up off the floor |
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I'm ready when you are, senor |
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Senor, senor, let's disconnect these cables |
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Overturn these tables |
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This place don't make sense to me no more |
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Can you tell me what we're waiting for, senor? |
