This song brings to mind two things. First, an image of Robert Mitchum standing in the doorway of a bar in Tijuana, and Second, a line by Thomas McGuane, my brother-in-law, from his book, PANAMA, 'The night wrote a check the morning couldn't cash.'
Halloween in Tijuana Full moon in my eyes I wonder how in the hell I got here Without a disguise
Should I take this last step Or turn myself around Or follow my intuition into that border town
Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico [I want to dance in Mexico] We do the desperation samba con nos amigos [...with our friends] Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
Pretty girls they beckon From their rooms above Skeletons are dancing In the name of love
Don't know where I'm goin' I don't like where I've been There may be no exit But hell I'm going in
Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
I hear the people singing that same old haunting tune I drink because I know it's me against the moon
Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
Spoken: 'Tss, tss tss' 'Hey, psst amigo!'
Ooh ooh ooh ooh Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos Yo quiero a bailar en Mexico We do the desperation samba con nos amigos
*Notes: Background Vocals: Timothy B. Schmit, Harry Stinson Featuring Reggie Young on gut string guitar and Harrison Ford on the bullwhip