Compadres In The Old Sierra Madres

There is a spot I know
Way down in Mexico
High in the old Sierra Madres
There many outlaw bands
From across the Rio Grande
Have found a haven, a holdout, a hideaway
But danger rides with those who stray
Upon this 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 Madres
Deep in the dark of night
Beside a campfire’s light
They spin the tales of the life of the bandit
Of jwels rare and old
Of coaches filld with gold
A daring raid that paid off as they planned it
But danger rides with those who stray
Upon this 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 Madres
But danger rides with those who stray
Upon this 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 Madres