This is a song   About best friends      John Roy   Was a boy I knew   Since he was three   And I was two   Grew up two little houses   Down from me      The only two bad apples   On our family tree   Kind of ripened and rotted   In our puberty   Two kindred spirits bound by destiny      Well now I was smart   But I lacked ambition   Johnny was wild   With no inhibition   Was about like mixin   Fire and gasoline   (And he'd say)      Hey Romeo   Let's go down to Mexico   Chase senoritas   Drink ourselves silly   Show them Mexican girls   A couple of real hillbillies   Got a pocket full of cash   And that old Ford truck   A fuzzy cat hangin   From the mirror for luck   Said don't you know   All those little   Brown-eyed girls   Want playboys of the southwestern world      Long around   Our eighteenth year   We found two plane tickets   The hell out of here   Got scholarships   To some small town   School in Texas      Learned to drink Sangria   Til the dawns early light   Eat eggs Ranchero   And throw up all night   And tell those daddy's girls   We were majoring in a rodeo      Ah but my   Favorite memory   At school that fall   Was the night John Roy   Came runnin down the hall   Wearin nothin   But cowboy boots   And a big sombrero   (And he was yellin)      Hey Romeo   Let's go down to Mexico   Chase senoritas   Drink ourselves silly   Show them Mexican girls   A couple of real hillbillies   Got a pocket full of cash   And that old Ford truck   A fuzzy cat hangin   From the mirror for luck   Said don't you know   All those little   Brown-eyed girls   Want playboys of the southwestern world      And I said   We had a little   Change in plans   Like when Paul McCartney   Got busted in Japan   And I said   We got waylaid   When we laid foot   On Mexican soil   See the boarder guard   With the Fu Manchu mustache   Kind of stumbled on John's   Pocket full of American cash   He said   Doin a little funny business   In Mexico Amigo      But all I could think about   Was savin my own tail   When he mentioned ten years   In a Mexican jail   So I pointed to John Roy and said   It's all his now please let me go   Well it was your idea genius   I was just layin there in bed   When you said      Hey Romeo   Let's go down to Mexico   Chase senoritas   Drink ourselves silly   Show them Mexican girls   A couple of real hillbillies   Got a pocket full of cash   And that old Ford truck   A fuzzy cat hangin   From the mirror for luck   Said don't you know   All those little   Brown-eyed girls   Want playboys of the southwestern world      Ah we're still best friends   Temporary cell mates