Compadres In The Old Sierra Madres

There is a place I know way down in Mexico
 High in the old Sierra Madre
 Where many an outlaw band from across the Rio Grande
 Have found a haven, a holdout, a hideaway
 But danger rides with those who stray upon their secret hideaway
 Where death is sure to welcome anyone within the law
 But if a man must run from any lawman's gun
 He'll find compadres in the old Sierra Madre
 Deep in the dark of night, beside the campfire's light,
 They weave the tales of the lies, of the bandits.
 Of jewels rare and old, of coaches filled with gold,
 Holdups pulled off like they planned it.
 But danger rides with those who stray upon their secret hideaway
 Where death is sure to welcome anyone within the law
 But if a man must run from any lawman's gun
 He'll find compadres in the old Sierra Madre
 Deep in the dark of night, beside the campfire's light,
 They weave the tales of the lies, of the bandits.
 Of jewels rare and old, of coaches filled with gold,
 Holdups pulled off like they planned it.
 But danger rides with those who stray upon their secret hideaway
 Where death is sure to welcome anyone within the law
 But if a man must run from any lawman's gun
 He'll find compadres in the old Sierra Madre
 There is a place I know way down in Mexico
 Where many an outlaw band from across the Rio Grande
 Have found a haven, a holdout, a hideaway
 But danger rides with those who stray upon their secret hideaway
 Where death is sure to welcome anyone within the law
 But if a man must run from any lawman's gun
 He'll find compadres in the old Sierra Madre
 But if a man must run from any lawman's gun
 He'll find compadres in the old Sierra Madre