Senor, senor, do you know where we're heading?

Lincoln County Road or Armageddon?

Seems like I been down this way before

Is there any truth in that, senor?

Senor, senor, do you know where she is hiding?

How long are we gonna be riding?

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 marching band still playing 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

Said, "Son, this ain't a dream no more, it's the real thing"

Senor, senor, you know their hearts is 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 disconnect these cables

Overturn these tables

This place don't make sense to me no more

Can you tell me what we're waiting for, senor?

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): BOB DYLAN