Mexico
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus! Come a bus with a baby
Pick-a-boo all (the) way and nobody's waving
Oba muchacho, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
(I'm goin' down to Mexico)
(Uh! Uh!)
(I'm goin' down to Mexico)
(Uh! Uh!)
(I'm goin' down to Mexico)
(Uh! Uh!)
(I'm goin' down to Mexico)
(Uh! Uh!)
Banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke chico
One, two, three, four
Banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
"Kid" no "Chico"!
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
Oba! muchacho, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus! Come a bus with a baby
Pick-a-boo all (the) way and nobody's waving
Oba! muchacho, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke chico
One, two, three, four
Banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
"Kid" no "Chico"!
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
(To be alone is to live in a frightening world. A place where fears and insecurities can eat away like acid at the confused mind. There are many such young people today - afterthoughts of broken homes and selfish, unthinking parents. The young can grow like seeking roots in tortured, twisted ways.)
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