in mexico you’re all alone.
you can’t look up and say hello.
and beggars' eyes are on your throat, as you walk streets made of bones.
the towns are all just desert stands, if you try and leave you’ll find death in them sands.
you’re always outside ‘cause the windows are gone, and the air is heavy with
dirt.
they’re economic cannibals.
every tummy’s penny filled.
and when you go out wear your bullet proof vest, ‘cause the bad guys are crooks
and the good guys are dead.
so if you’re lookin' for the real frontier, chillin' adventure and a fistfight
with fear, don’t go west and live in a home, go south and die in mexico.
you’re always on your side, and you bend truth to prove you’re in the right.
but this we can’t abide, so we’ll leave the place, forsake this race.
and it’s right before our eyes.
we’ll find light before we die.
we left before the sunrise, with books in our bags to help us find the new
light.
but what we found was isolation; no frame or application for our derivations.
and it was right before our eyes.
we were alright and everything was fine.
yeah it was right before our eyes, but we forsook it and our minds went dry.
and i left, so to society i died.
we left before the sunrise, and searched the whole year through,
and when we settled down in that mine, we found that we were blind