The Mexican

He's called Fernandez
Living on a gun

Shot real, conch for practice
Map to the fortune, hidden up under the mattress
A led belt, attached ciz and holsters
Waking area, two blaze and toaster
Hit the stage, hopes on stallions
Looking for federal reserves, notes gold medallions
Heavily true by the local governor
Southerner, sought after bought a whole battalion
Fill out a snake within a hand shake
Get the drop on them then he explained the mistake
The techman's gold we show
While the flakes rate to shoot
Wild horses drink from the lake
Deputy say by the badge and the blazo
Who wanted shot from one to have the aim of a laser
Trained by a neighbor, a gambler
Who will stack a deck, once mars carved with a razor

He's called Fernandez
Living on a gun
Dreams of Santa Anna
Fighting the sun

Drums so loud from outside
Makes it hard to dream
A rain is falling hard and fast
Makes it all seem real

Morning, come morning
A chico's gotta have his share
Morning, sad morning
Said he must be there

It used to move weight
But then it became a grow up
Constrictor boa, most center lower
Who operated along the mind of his own
For mostly silver and other shining stones
A bandit political rebel, who move with the group
Because the levels flashing heavy metals
Clash with the lords, tricker than tis reactions
Hard labor, gave him ocapu contractions
Lawmen turned to outlaw
Gunfighter, cattle rustlers, hustlers, rough riders
Used his connections everything to versual
Cost on social economic circles

Senorita pining
Chico come on home
Santa Anna's losing
You'll be first to go

Sam Houston's laughing
Davy Crockett too
When Anna takes the Alamo
The first to go is you

Morning, come morning
A chico's gotta have his share
Morning, sad morning
Heaven will be there

Morning, sad morning
What a laugh, had a laugh
Ha ha ha ha ha