Senor, senor, can you tell me where we're heading?Lincoln County Road or Armageddon?Seems like I've been down this way beforeIs there any truth in that, senor?Senor, senor, do you know where she's hiding?How long are we gonna be riding?How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?Will there be any comfort there, senor?There's a wicked wind still blowing on that upper deckAnd there's a nightcrawl still hanging from around her neckThere's a marching band still playing in that vacant lotWhere she held me in her arms one time and said, forget me notSenor, senor, I can see that painted wagonAnd I can smell the tail of the dragonI can't stand the suspense here anymoreCan you tell me who to contact here, senor?banjo soloWell, the last thing I remember before I stripped and healedWas that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic fieldAnd a gypsy with a broken flag and flashing rainSaid, son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thingSenor, senor, you know their hearts are hard as leatherGive me a minute, let me get it togetherI gotta pick myself up off the floorI'm ready when you are, senorSenor, senor, let's overturn these tables and disconnect these cablesThis place don't make sense to me no moreCan you tell me what we're waiting for, senor?banjo solo