Paco and Ramone lived a mile away from where I used to be In Alabama, all the bars and all the jams we used to keep They wanted to live on the freeway, in a gypsy style A caravan [?] a few, hey, that would be wise
Paco and Ramone made a pact, and there won’t be no turning back They’ll live on figs and nuts alone, on cans of beans and country pone Their mama should see how they’re being, just a little while Two country boys bringing a new way, with a little style
Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone
An Indian chief with all the right connections, said he was a star He’d pay for company, and in-between he played a mean guitar He wanted to gig on the freeway, but he needs a van But Paco and Ramone and he’d play, if he gets a stand
An unbelievable arena seemed to grow up over night Far fields of [?] far belong, but not to anyone in sight It just seemed to grow on the freeway, waiting for a cause The hungrily indians of peace make, just relax the laws
Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone
The Indian chief went dip-de-deep, the whole crowd shouted da-da-daa The place was buzzing like a bee, a festival of harmony The officers didn’t get the key in, though they were young This stone really needed the free up, for it seemed so long
The old state trooper paralyzed from the waist down, couldn’t believe his eyes Here’s holiday for sun recall much better, much much better night He called down the merry and the V8, and he stopped the fun When last I heard, Paco and Ramone were still on the run
Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone
Paco and Ramone dip-de-deep, the whole world, shouted da-da-daa Paco and Ramone dip-de-deep, the whole world, singing da-da-daa
Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone Paco and Ramone