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That Handsome Devil - Mexico

03:59 author faqmetaomega 11 April 2009 09:09 95 955 views

lyrics

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

We die, muchacho, vámonos [Hiya]
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-oh

We bandidos
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 bandidos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can't see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, in line
At the bus depot

We die, muchachos, vámonos [Hiya]
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 away and nobody's waving

C'mon, pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart

We die, muchacho, vámonos [Hiya]
I'm goin' down to Mexico

We bandidos
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 bandidos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can't see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, in line
At the bus depot

C'mon, pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon, pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon, pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
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.]

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