Bourbon Crow - Highway to Hangovers

Well mama I´m writting a letter home
´Cuz i know that you think what I´ve done was wrong
But I´m here to tell ya, I´ve got no regets

And you know your boy he don´t take no shit
That´s exactly why I killed that son of a bitch
And I´m doing life, in this metal pit

Well a man´s gotta do what he´s gotta do
Through its consequences can be cruel
With the one-way ticket to the graveyard
And I´m driving the hearse
And I made you a bed in the desert

Well the stoty I´m about to tell
And the first verse you heard didn´t end so well
For that loose lip, non-English speaking immigrant

I said "I don´t know what the hell you´re saying
And this bottle I´m drinking got me to thinking
Every dog has his day and that dog was barking"

Well a man´s gotta do what he´s gotta do
Through its consequences can be cruel
With the one-way ticket to the graveyard
And I´m driving the hearse
And I made you a bed in the desert

I said "Adios amigo,
Hope you enjoyed your last burrito,
If you have any final words,
Let them be heard"

"No comprende seňor"

And I made you a bed in the desert