Day of the Dead - Wade Bowen

It’s a hundred and ten here in Lajitas

Piñatas on the promenade

Sunday best, painted faces

Lining up for the Parade

Oh the river is down here in Lajitas

Steering down the banks of Mexico

Wondering if they’d even notice

If I slipped across and just kept drifting on

It’s the Day of the Dead here in Lajitas

Dirt still fresh under the stone

Now our love’s gone home to Jesus

You’re wearing white in San Antone

Let him know about cattle

Met an old vaquero from Nogales

Said that he once wore my shoes

I finally left him in some alley in Juárez

Oh and he had nothing left to lose

It’s the Day of the Dead here in Lajitas

Dirt still fresh under the stone

Now our love’s gone home to Jesus

You’re wearing white in San Antone

Dreamed I heard the Mariachis singing

You and I were dancing toe to toe

Barefoot on the

I woke up clinging to a ghost

It’s the Day of the Dead here in Lajitas

Dirt still fresh under the stone

Now our love’s gone home to Jesus

You’re wearing white in San Antone

Yeah now our love’s gone home to Jesus

You’re wearing white

You’re wearing white in San Antone