Mexico

Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy

I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting

Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies

It pulled away, and nobody's waving

C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart

Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart

We die, muchacho, vamonos

I'm goin' down to Mexico

I'm goin' down to Mexico

Down to Mexico, oh

I'm going down to Mexico

Down to Mexico, oh

We 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

We banditos

Six-pack of Keystone

Smellin' like street folk

Keen-o, chico

I can see so

Good, I think it's heatstroke

Outside, inline

At the bus depot

We die, muchachos, vamamos (Yes)

I'm goin' down to Mexico

I'm goin' down to Mexico

Down to Mexico, oh

I'm goin' down Mexico

Down to Mexico, oh

Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy

I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting

Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies

It pulled and nobody's waving

C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart

Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart

We die, muchacho, vamamos

I'm goin' down to Mexico

We 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

We banditos

Six-pack of Keystone

Smellin' like street folk

Keen-o, chico

I can see so

Good, I think it's heatstroke

Outside, inline

At the bus depot

C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart

Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart

C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart

Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart

C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart (bullet in my heart)

Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart

(Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart)

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