Tijuana 500 Songtext
von The Mess Hall

I might leave
For Tijuana Mexico
She left a will
I took nothing but the soup bone
Eight hundred pesos
Crying in my pocket
Going ahhhhhh


The night came
With a belly full of liquor
Standing on the street
Waiting for the mule
To reinvent herself
In the shape of a horse
Or a zebra
Going...

All I need is a place to fall
All I need is a place to fall

I ended up
In La Mesa on the border
The kind of place
They take the lambs to the slaughter
Eight hundred Pesos
No longer in my pocket crying
Ahhhhhh

I made bail
Wiped the slate clean
Mexico City no longer on my brain
I found a little place to call home


All I need is a place to fall
All I need is a place to fall