Way down yonder,
Where the cactus grow.
The wind blows hot,
The day moves slow.
It's siesta time,
In the afternoon.
Then people shine,
Under crescent moon.
The music plays,
Beneath the stars.
The joyful dance,
To twin guitars.
A tequila shot,
A wedge of lime,
A pinch of salt,
It's fiesta time.
The men make sure,
To tip their hat.
The young would stand,
While the elders sat.
The smiles are plenty,
The tears are...
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