|
See how the rain |
|
Falls from the sky |
|
Drifting down |
|
From your high mountain's eye |
|
But don't look surprised |
|
You're going home |
|
Yeah you're leaving |
|
L.A. On a cloudy day |
|
Pushing the crowd away |
|
You gonna get away today |
|
An you turn on your radio |
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An let the wind blow |
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With your rock n roll |
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Down the highway |
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All the way |
|
Ah but see how, the lightning |
|
Makes cracks in your air |
|
Tearing the clouds |
|
Then closing the tear |
|
Yeah but you're not surprised |
|
Anymore You're going home |
|
To Mexico |
|
Four hundred years ago |
|
Down in Mexico |
|
The Spanish galleons drew near |
|
And the Aztec warriors watched |
|
From their mountain sides |
|
Yeah the fear in their eyes |
|
As clear as their end it was near |
|
Yeah Cortez he come |
|
With his men and his guns |
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And a Spanish |
|
Christ Alive on his lip |
|
But as soon as he touched ground |
|
Well his men wanted to turn around |
|
So he burned down the turn around ships |
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Yeah he crossed all that water |
|
With his cannon and fodder |
|
If need be to slaughter |
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For Gods and for gold |
|
An he wouldn't let no man |
|
Talk him in to being anything other than |
|
Conquistador bold |
|
Yeah Pachuco to |
|
Paradise Yeah a |
|
Colorado rain |
|
Falls on your |
|
California glass |
|
Washing away the hardline |
|
From your |
|
California past |
|
Ah but you're not surprised anymore |
|
You're going home |
|
Cause just out of |
|
Cortez Well the radio man says |
|
That they's a lookin for you |
|
They gonna get you |
|
But your guns on your map |
|
And they're both in your lap |
|
Besides your |
|
Chic's with you |
|
So you gonna get through |
|
Ah but see how the lightning |
|
Makes cracks in your air |
|
Tearing the clouds |
|
Then closin the tear |
|
Yeah but you're not surprised anymore |
|
You're going home |
|
To Paradise |
