Senor, senor, can you tell me where we're headin' Lincoln County Road or Armageddon Seems like I been down this way before Is there any truth in that, senor Senor, senor, Do you know where she's hidin' How long are we gonna be ridin' How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door Will there be any comfort there, senor Inst.: | | | There's a wicked wind still blowing on that upper deck And there's an iron cross still hanging from around her neck There's a marching band still playing in that vacant lot Where's she held me in her arms one time and said, "Forget me not Senor, senor, I can see that painted wagon Smell the tail of the dragon I can't stand the suspense here anymore Can you tell me who to contact here, senor Inst. 2: | | | Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled Was that trainload of fools bogged down in the magnetic field And a gypsy with a broken flag and flashing ring Said "Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing" Senor, senor, you know their hearts are hard as leather Give me a minute, let me get it togather I gotta pick myself up off the floor I'm ready when you are, senor Senor, senor, let's overturn these tables And disconnect these cables This place don't make sense to me no more Can you tell me what we're waiting for, senor
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