| ev’ry year along about this time it all goes dry
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| there’s nothing round for love or money
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| that’ll get you high
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| henry got pissed off and said he’d run to mexico
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| to see if he could come back holdin'
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| twenty keys of gold
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| now the road to acapulco is very hard indeed
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| and it isn’t any better if you haven’t any weed
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| henry’s driving hard and straight
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| on twisty mountain roads
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| there’s fifty people waiting back
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| at home for henry’s load
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| and now he’s rollin' down the mountain
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| going fast, fast, fast
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| and if he blows it this one’s gonna be his last
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| run to acapulco to turn the golden keys
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| henry keep the brakes on for this corner if you please
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| henry got to mexico and turned his truck around
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| he’s talking to the man who has it
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| growing from the ground
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| henry tasted, he got wasted, couldn’t even see
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| how he’s gonna drive like that is not too clear to me
|
| and now he’s rollin' down the mountain
|
| going fast, fast, fast
|
| and if he blows it this one’s gonna be his last
|
| run to acapuco to turn the golden keys
|
| henry keep the brakes on for this corner if you please
|
| sunday afternoon tijuana is a lovely town
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| bullfight brings the tourists and
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| their money flowing down
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| the border guards are much too busy
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| there at five o' clock
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| henry’s truckin' right on through,
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| he hardly even stopped (repeat) |