I had a dream about
The girl in the gold bikini
All locked up in chains
She was writing her memior
Long ago and far away
And I was riding with Pancho Villa
and hiding out in a cave
Dodging the Federales
Up in the Sierra Madre.
Send me a postcard, some time
From the edges of the galaxy
Send me a fresh horse
And I’ll ride with you until we all are free.
And somewhere up in Hollywood,
They are making legends of us all-
The bandits, the burnouts, the poet and the fool
On the silver screen, all of them stand tall-
But up in these caves and soundstages,
There is no such thing as cool.