Bob Dylan seortales of yankee power

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Senor, senor, can you tell me where we're headin'?
Lincoln County Road or Armageddon?
Seem like I been down this way before.
Is there any truth in that, senor?
Senor, senor, do you know where she's hidin'?
How long are we gonna be ridin'?
How long must I keep my eyes glued to the door?
Will there be any comfort there, senor?
There's a wicked wind still blowin' on that upper deck,
There's an iron cross still hanging down from around her neck.
There's a marchin' band still playin' in that vacant lot
Where she held me in her arms one time and said, Forget me not.
Senor, senor, I can see that painted wagon,
I can smell the tail of the dragon.
Can't stand the suspense anymore.
Can you tell me who to contact here, senor?
Well, the last thing I remember before I stripped and kneeled
Was that trainload of fools bogged down in a magnetic field.
A gypsy with a broken flag and a flashing ring
She said, Son, this aint a dream no more, its the real thing.
Senor, senor, you know their hearts they're as hard as leather.
Well, give me a minute, let me get it together.
I just gotta pick myself up off the floor.
I'm ready when you are, senor.
Senor, senor, let's overturn these tables,
Disconnect these cables .
This place don't make sense to me no more.
Can you tell me what we're waiting for, senor?

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