| It’s a hundred and ten here in Lajitas
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| Piñatas on the promenade
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| Sunday best, painted faces
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| Lining up for the Parade
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| Oh the river is down here in Lajitas
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| Steering down the banks of Mexico
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| Wondering if they’d even notice
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| If I slipped across and just kept drifting on
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| It’s the Day of the Dead here in Lajitas
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| Dirt still fresh under the stone
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| Now our love’s gone home to Jesus
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| You’re wearing white in San Antone
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| Let him know about cattle
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| Met an old vaquero from Nogales
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| Said that he once wore my shoes
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| I finally left him in some alley in Juárez
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| Oh and he had nothing left to lose
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| It’s the Day of the Dead here in Lajitas
|
| Dirt still fresh under the stone
|
| Now our love’s gone home to Jesus
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| You’re wearing white in San Antone
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| Dreamed I heard the Mariachis singing
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| You and I were dancing toe to toe
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| Barefoot on the
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| I woke up clinging to a ghost
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| It’s the Day of the Dead here in Lajitas
|
| Dirt still fresh under the stone
|
| Now our love’s gone home to Jesus
|
| You’re wearing white in San Antone
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| Yeah now our love’s gone home to Jesus
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| You’re wearing white
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| You’re wearing white in San Antone |