| This is a song
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| About best friends
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| John Roy
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| Was a boy I knew
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| Since he was three
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| And I was two
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| Grew up two little houses
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| Down from me The only two bad apples
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| On our family tree
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| Kind of ripened and rotted
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| In our puberty
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| Two kindred spirits bound by destiny
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| Well now I was smart
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| But I lacked ambition
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| Johnny was wild
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| With no inhibition
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| Was about like mixin
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| Fire and gasoline
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| (And he’d say)
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| Hey Romeo
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| Let’s go down to Mexico
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| Chase senoritas
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| Drink ourselves silly
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| Show them Mexican girls
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| A couple of real hillbillies
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| Got a pocket full of cash
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| And that old Ford truck
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| A fuzzy cat hangin
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| From the mirror for luck
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| Said don’t you know
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| All those little
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| Brown-eyed girls
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| Want playboys of the southwestern world
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| Long around
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| Our eighteenth year
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| We found two plane tickets
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| The hell out of here
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| Got scholarships
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| To some small town
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| School in Texas
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| Learned to drink Sangria
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| Til the dawns early light
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| Eat eggs Ranchero
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| And throw up all night
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| And tell those daddy’s girls
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| We were majoring in a rodeo
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| Ah but my Favorite memory
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| At school that fall
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| Was the night John Roy
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| Came runnin down the hall
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| Wearin nothin
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| But cowboy boots
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| And a big sombrero
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| (And he was yellin)
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| Hey Romeo
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| Let’s go down to Mexico
|
| Chase senoritas
|
| Drink ourselves silly
|
| Show them Mexican girls
|
| A couple of real hillbillies
|
| Got a pocket full of cash
|
| And that old Ford truck
|
| A fuzzy cat hangin
|
| From the mirror for luck
|
| Said don’t you know
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| All those little
|
| Brown-eyed girls
|
| Want playboys of the southwestern world
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| And I said
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| We had a little
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| Change in plans
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| Like when Paul McCartney
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| Got busted in Japan
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| And I said
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| We got waylaid
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| When we laid foot
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| On Mexican soil
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| See the boarder guard
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| With the Fu Manchu mustache
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| Kind of stumbled on John’s
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| Pocket full of American cash
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| He said
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| Doin a little funny business
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| In Mexico Amigo
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| But all I could think about
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| Was savin my own tail
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| When he mentioned ten years
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| In a Mexican jail
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| So I pointed to John Roy and said
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| It’s all his now please let me go Well it was your idea genius
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| I was just layin there in bed
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| When you said
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| Hey Romeo
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| Let’s go down to Mexico
|
| Chase senoritas
|
| Drink ourselves silly
|
| Show them Mexican girls
|
| A couple of real hillbillies
|
| Got a pocket full of cash
|
| And that old Ford truck
|
| A fuzzy cat hangin
|
| From the mirror for luck
|
| Said don’t you know
|
| All those little
|
| Brown-eyed girls
|
| Want playboys of the southwestern world
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| Ah we’re still best friends
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| Temporary cell mates |