I heard music through the screen door, a soft, Spanish melody It took me back to a place I'd been before As I wandered in and found myself a seat I got lost in a feeling, one I hadn't felt in years Spinning tales with the locals over home-made enchiladas and a beer
Jack Kincaid is the owner, he runs the place with his wife, Jo Selling propane to the truckers Who haul it off to Juarez, Mexico There's not much business in the Spring best friend to metime, just the neighbors dropping in And as I left out for El Paso, I wondered when I'd pass this way again