| Down along the southern border
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| Rides Agent Ray
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| Been working for ICE for ten years
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| He hasn’t missed a day
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| He’s got a big old thermos filled with coffee
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| Or Mountain Dew if it’s the afternoon
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| And binoculars too
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| Over yonder on the golden horizon
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| Head and shoulders appear
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| It’s a family of four with women and children
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| Startin' to get near
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| He flashes his badge
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| Pulls his gun
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| Yells, «Get down on the ground, everyone
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| You’re coming with me
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| You’re coming with me»
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| Ray loads them into his paddy wagon
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| And he slams the door
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| The kids start rollin' and a-tumblin'
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| Their head hits the floor
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| Up in the cab, Ray calls it in
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| Just another Monday afternoon
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| What you gonna do?
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| Back in town at the detention center
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| Ray checks 'em in
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| Fingerprints them, stamps and collect 'em
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| He gets the next of kin
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| The kids go this way, the mamas go that
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| The kids go this way, the mamas go that
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| The kids go this way, the mamas go that
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| What you gonna do?
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| What you gonna do?
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| Back at home after a long day of workin'
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| Ray settles down
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| Pops a beer, sits in his chair
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| He takes a look around
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| Well, all he wants to do
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| Is sit back and watch cartoons
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| Wouldn’t you?
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| Wouldn’t you?
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| Wouldn’t you? |