| There’s a town south of the border
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| South of El Paso they say
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| Where the nights are long and the winds are warm
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| And the women they love to play
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| In an old adobe tavern
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| Mescal flows like water
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| And Rita will dance on your table so fine
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| You are bound to place your order
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| I don’t have to think about it
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| I don’t have to wonder
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| Where I’m going to ride tonight
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| I’ll be riding down the highway south of the border
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| As I ride into town and the dust settles down
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| And the mariachi music is playing
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| I buy me a room from a guy named Luis
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| It’s just up the stairs and it’s waiting
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| Downstairs Rita is dancing
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| Just the way her mother has taught her
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| So I settle down for the show and a beer
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| And wait for that mother’s daughter
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| I don’t have to think about it
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| I don’t have to wonder
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| Where I’m going to ride tonight
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| I’ll be riding
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| When the morning comes and I wake up
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| To the sounds of the people below
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| There’s a note on my bed that is easily read
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| Buenos dias and a kiss when you go
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| As I ride out of town with my face to the sun
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| And the dust is trailing behind
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| Soon I’ll go back to this sleepy old town
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| Back where I know I can find
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| I don’t have to think about it
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| I don’t have to wonder
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| Where I’m going to ride tonight
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| I’ll be riding down the highway south of the border |