WHEN THE WEST SLOWS DOWN I HANG MY HEAD
BECAUSE THERE AIN'T NOBODY NOWHERE WHO'S THROUGH WITH IT
GRINGOS IN TOWN FALL DEAD
AND THEN THERE AIN'T NOBODY NOWHERE WHO'S THROUGH WITH IT
AIN'T NOBODY NOWHERE WHO KNOWS WHAT TO DO WITH IT

WHEN WEST TAKES THE HIGH ROAD
GO LOW ROUTE INSTEAD
TEAR THEIR ARMS FROM THEIR SIDES
RIP THEIR EARS FROM THEIR HEADS
AND BASK IN THEIR PAIN
RIP THEIR EYES FROM THEIR SOCKETS
SAIL IN THEIR SORROW
AND WADE IN THEIR FEAR

AS THEY WAIL TO GOD, I WAIL TO GOD