14 stories high, watching the money flowin' by
Dan knew he had to try to make it his
He never owned a gun, but he found himself on the run
He said, ain't this some fun, it is what it is
Things rarely go as planned, but you can bet
this is the place to go if you're not ready to make a final stand
He knew they'd probably count, and that they'd find the wrong amount
Just like the sermon on the mount, you take 'em for what they're worth
He thought he'd feel the shame, the guilt you find within the game
Like the angel in the name, he sent his prayers from earth
Things rarely go as planned, but you can bet
this is the place to go if you're not ready to make a final stand
Ex-Pat Dan in the San Miguel Square rubs his eyes and prays to disappear
He says, I wonder how did I get here
I say, how did we get anywhere
Expat Dan with his Mexican tan and American beer
He wired the funds from Arkansas to a shell in Panama
Named the whole thing for his ma, and then he hopped a freight
And now he counts his rosary beads on his lover's widow's weeds
Sinless in thoughts, if not in deeds, underneath Bajio heat
Should they find the dog tags in Guanajuato dirt
As far as he's concerned, no one got hurt
Last I heard, there was a hassle in the square
Silviana saw it all, but she says she couldn't swear
That crazy gringo tried to tell me he's a millionaire
But you can't trust just any drunk these days
And I don't know, but I've been told
Rich men round here don't grow old
Silviana's scent, it grew so cold
Somewhere south of San Andres
Things rarely go as planned, but you can bet
this is the place to go if you're not ready to make a final stand
And now his only problem is the ice cream on his shirt
He thanks his lucky stars, no one got hurt
Ex-Pat Dan in the San Miguel Square rubs his eyes and prays to disappear
He says, I wonder how did I get here
I say, how did we get anywhere
Ex-Pat Dan with his Mexican tan and American beer
Three stories high, watching life crawling by
Dan knew he had to try to make it his
He repented for his lies, sitting under cathedral spires
Honoring the southern skies, glad to not be missed
Ex-Pat Dan in the San Miguel Square rubs his eyes and slowly reappears
I say, how did we get anywhere
He says, thank God I wound up here
Ex-Pat Dan with his Mexican tan and American beer
He slowly comes to understand, year by year