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.