| In the quiet hours before the dawn
|
| Buttons up his uniform
|
| Takes out his badge and pins it on
|
| For thirty years he’s enforced the law
|
| And he drives out on the Rio Grande
|
| Across the dry and sunburned land
|
| And on this side he takes his stand again
|
| They won’t get through this bordertown
|
| He turns 'em back, he stands his ground
|
| But still they come, because they know
|
| Somewhere the streets are paved with gold
|
| Somewhere beyond the sound of this bordertown
|
| It’s not his place to say what’s fair
|
| He’s done his duty all these years
|
| In his mind the law’s the law
|
| But then at dusk she wades across
|
| And he sees the hope thats in her eyes
|
| Child with dreams of a brand new life
|
| It’s not his job to say what’s right or wrong
|
| They won’t get through this bordertown
|
| He turns 'em back, he stands his ground
|
| But still they come, because they know
|
| Somewhere the streets are paved with gold
|
| Somewhere beyond the sound of this bordertown
|
| As night falls over Mexico
|
| He waits there as she comes ashore
|
| Finished, there’s a moment of faith
|
| He turns his back and he walks away |