Mexico

Owsley and Charlie, twins of the trade,
 Come to the Poet's Room
 Talking about the problems of the leaf,
 And yes, it'll be back soon
 There used to be tons of gold and green
 Comin' up here from Mexico
 A donde esta la planta, mi amigo, del sol?
 But Mexico is under the thumb
 Of a man we call Richard
 And he's come to call himself king
 But he's a small-headed man
 And he doesn't know a thing
 About how to deal for you
 How to deal for you
 There are millions of you now
 I mean it's not as if you were alone
 There are brothers everywhere
 Just waiting for a toke on that gold
 And God knows how far it can go
 But thanks Uncle Charlie
 For your Mexican smoke
 You're a legend Owsley
 For your righteous dope
 There were a half a million people on the lawn
 And we sang to the faces in the dark
 How long must that damn race
 Wait for the jailer's time to end?
 How long must the Panther race
 Wait for the iron bars to bend?
 And no no no no no nobody waits