Silence is goldennMaybe for the sanenBut late night radio staticnIs silver like rainnnOncoming headlightsnAre few and far betweennBut Pedro smiles every couple of milesnHe’s got mirrors on his sailornnSouth of the bordernNot MexiconSouth of the bordernThe only place to gonnWhen you need a little burnernLeave the chores behindnSouth of the bordernIt’s my constant state of mindnIn this waste landnnGonna’ get some squealersnBottle rockets maybe toonAnd a big old roman candlenEspecially for younnBuys a dozen stickersn‘Baby for the car’nSometimes you think you’re too high classnYou forget who you arennSouth of the bordernI’m just you’re ball and chainnAnd black velvet lined hand pullsnOh baby aint’ it a shame?nnHoudini if you want tonIf you think that you cannThink you’ll always benMy south of the border mannIn this waste land