John Prine — Mexican Home

It got so hot last night, I swear You couldn't hardly breathe Heat lightning burned the sky like alcohol I sat on the porch without my shoes And I watched the cars roll by As the headlights raced to the corner of the kitchen wall Mama dear, your boy is here Far across the sea Waiting for that sacred coal That burns inside of me And I feel a storm All wet and warm Not ten miles away Approaching my Mexican home My God! I cried, it's so hot inside You could die in the living room Take the fan from the window, prop the door back with a broom The cuckoo clock has died of shock And the windows feel no pain The air's as still as the throttle on a funeral train Mama dear, your boy is here Far across the sea Waiting for that sacred coal That burns inside of me And I feel a storm All wet and warm Not ten miles away Approaching my Mexican home My father died on the porch outside On an August afternoon, I sipped bourbon and cried With a friend by the light of the moon So it's hurry! hurry! Step right up It's a matter of life or death The sun is going down and the moon is just holding its breath Mama dear, your boy is here Far across the sea Waiting for that sacred coal That burns inside of me And I feel a storm All wet and warm Not ten miles away Approaching my Mexican home