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Day Of The Dead – Wade Bowen
It's a hundred and ten here in Lajitas
Piñatas on the promenade
Sunday best, painted faces
Lining up for the Parade
Oh the river is down here in Lajitas
Steering down the banks of Mexico
Wondering if they'd even notice
If I slipped across and just kept drifting on
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
Met an old Vaquero from Nogales
Said he once wore my shoes
I finally left him in some alley in Juárez
Oh and he had nothing left to lose
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
Dreamed I heard the Mariachis singing
You and I were dancing toe to toe
Barefoot on the pale Saltillo
I woke up clinging to a ghost
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
Yeah now our love's gone home to Jesus
You're wearing white
You're wearing white in San Antone
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