| Jake ridin' south on the holiest day
|
| Headin' for the Mexican border
|
| Shotgun movin' to the rhythm of his range
|
| Just to help him keep law and order
|
| Sits right back just a-takin' it easy
|
| Drinks a shot a whiskey
|
| And it makes him mighty wheezy
|
| He coughed hard once
|
| He coughed hard twice
|
| Neglecting keeping watch
|
| Don’t mind the sheriff’s advice
|
| Ridin' shotgun
|
| Runnin' over land
|
| To the Rio Grande now
|
| Shots rang down from the rocks above
|
| And bore Jake to his feet
|
| His pants fell down and actin' like a clown
|
| The bullets had him dancin' to a rock 'n' roll beat
|
| Big Jake did the boogaloo too
|
| Got lucky, he cried like a drunk
|
| His aspirations ain’t no more for you
|
| And that’s the way it is
|
| Ridin' shotgun
|
| Runnin' over land
|
| To the Rio Grande now
|
| Stage got in to the center of town
|
| And Jake gotta have himself a drink
|
| He got to the bar and what he saw
|
| Any self-respecting folk would hate to think
|
| Ella May was dancin' to the sound of the blues
|
| Her belly must be wobblin' right down to her shoes
|
| It’s a-groovin' on the sidewalk, just don’t get too near
|
| 'Cause you’re gonna get knocked over by a belly full o' beer
|
| Ridin' shotgun
|
| Runnin' over land
|
| To the Rio Grande
|
| Take the law in hand
|
| To the Rio Grande now |