Words and music by Billy Gibbons, Bill Ham, Dusty Hill.
I was on my way down to Mexico,
there was trouble on the rise.
It was nothing more than I'd left behind,
which was much to my surprise.
I turned around and lit a cigarette
wiped the dust off of my boots.
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When up ahead I saw the crowd,
I knew it was no use.
I'ts been the same way for Oh so long,
it looks like I'm singing the same old song.
A fine and fancy man was he,
doing good things for the poor.
Givin' rides in his rockin' Eighty-eight for free.*
They could not hope for more.
When it came my turn he said to me,
Have I seen your face before?
I said, Oh no, you must be wrong,
I'm from a distant shore.
So if you don't mind, I'll just move along
but it looks like I'm singin' the same old song.
A Nineteen Forty movie star
with a long forgotten name.
She was a sexy mess in her pleated dress,
still hangin' on to fame.
With forgotten lines she missed her cue
and left a glass of wine at home.
She was singin' the same song that I was.
Could we both be wrong?
So hand in hand we walked along,
each of us singin' the same old song.
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