Yeah well Jimmy's got a six pack, and a twelve gauge
Shooting cans & bottles off the fence
Yesterday tomorrow seemed so hopeless
Today it seems like everything makes sense
He's staring at the bead right down the barrel
I'm looking for a pen to write this down
Working on a plan that means escaping
What people call the white trash side of town...
Yeah we're gonna live like kings in Juarez
Live like little gringo millionaires
It doesn't really matter what the score is
A dollar goes a long long way down there
I'm tired of feeling too big for my britches
Tired of feeling too small for my dreams
We're either gonna die like dogs in Texas
Or make it down to Juarez... and live like kings
Well we could rob the farmer's bank in Hondo
Tell me brother how hard could it be
Whoever put it that close to the highway
Never counted on the likes of me
They're probably never gonna see us comin'
We'll probably never have to fire a shot
Probably never more set foot in Texas
Once we get across the parking lot...
We're gonna live in castles, by the water
Or hell at least in cabins by the bar
We're gonna kiss the desert's lovely daughters
Underneath the heavens' silver stars
Ain't even gonna worry that the money
Might not last until we're both dead
You know you really ain't no kind of outlaw
Once you start to think that far ahead...