| Senor, senor, do you know where we’re headin'?
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| Lincoln County Road or Armageddon?
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| Seems like I been down this way before
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| Is there any truth in that, senor?
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| Senor, senor, do you know where she is hidin'?
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| How long are we gonna be ridin'?
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| How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?
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| Will there be any comfort there, senor?
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| There’s a wicked wind still blowin' on that upper deck
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| There’s an iron cross still hanging down from around her neck
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| There’s a marchin' band still playin' in that vacant lot
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| Where she held me in her arms one time and said, «Forget me not»
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| Senor, senor, I can see that painted wagon
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| I can smell the tail of the dragon
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| Can’t stand the suspense anymore
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| Can you tell me who to contact here, senor?
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| Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled
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| Was that train load of fools bogged down in a magnetic field
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| A gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring
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| Said,"Son, this ain’t a dream no more, it’s the real thing"
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| Senor, senor, you know their hearts is as hard as leather
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| Well, give me a minute, let me get it together
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| I just gotta pick myself up off the floor
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| I’m ready when you are, senor
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| Senor, senor, let’s disconnect these cables
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| Overturn these tables
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| This place don’t make sense to me no more
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| Can you tell me what we’re waiting for, senor? |