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Senor, senor, can you tell me where we're headin'? |
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Lincoln County Road or Armageddon? |
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Seem 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's hidin'? |
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How long are we gonna be ridin'? |
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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 marchin' band still playin' 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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She said, "Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing." |
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Senor, senor, you know their hearts they're 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 overturn these tables, |
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Disconnect these cables . |
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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? |
