Take a ride with That Handsome Devil to the other side of town: a neighborhood where Charles Bukowski hung his hat at a juke joint; where the bartender knew Hunter Thompson’s single malt of choice and kept plenty in stock. This is the place where That Handsome Devil’s front man Godforbid calls home, where producer Jeremy Page bangs on a bullet-riddled piano, its beaten keys howling from a smoky corner. A place with enough Molotov cocktails, skag, booze, and sleazy women to horrify the most hardened of old timers. A City Dressed in Dynamite is the soundtrack to this bizarre scene, and it’s pointless to fight it -just throw caution to the wind and take the ride. Put your life in the hands of your sharply dressed tour guide Godforbid, and just pray that you'll live to tell the story... or at least what you can remember.
The album starts off like a jolt of lighting with Damn Door, a dense lounge track declaring the album’s intent before tumbling into the dark, piercingly intense Wintergreen. Keeping the tempo up is the distinctive Rob the Prez-O-Dent, employing unique arrangements and an over-the-top subject matter to guarantee a lasting impression. At this point A City Dressed in Dynamite slows to a strut while limping past the hustlers and junkies in Pills for Everything. Before you can catch your breath, the upbeat stomper Cry dances carelessly towards an eerie dive into the deep end with Kiss the Cook, a disparaging tale set to Jeremy Page’s amazing arrangements.
The B-Side begins with Viva Discordia- a whimsical vaudevillian track showcasing Godforbid’s catchy rhythms and word play- then turns without skipping a beat slamming into Squares-a quirky pop song poking fun at the modern hipster. The next stop, Mexico, is a bright stumble through the foreign alleyways and dirt roads complimented perfectly by Jeremy Page’s engaging string arrangements. All the pieces of the puzzle start to expose themselves with the unveiling of Reagan’s Kids, a moody piece that opens the doors for the amazing grand finale, the bohemian ballad Treefood. This emotional conclusion is a perfect selection to be played while the curtains are closing at the opera house and the epic finale to the booze-ridden joy ride that is A City Dressed in Dynamite.
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Mexico
That Handsome Devil Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away, and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm going down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
We die, muchachos, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchacho, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart (bullet in my heart)
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart (Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart)
(To be alone is to live in a frightening world. A place where fears and insecurities can eat away like acid at the confused mind. There are many such young people today - afterthoughts of broken homes and selfish, unthinking parents. The young can grow like seeking roots in tortured, twisted ways.)
The lyrics to "Mexico" by That Handsome Devil tells the story of someone who is desperate to escape their current life and find a new start in Mexico. The opening lines of the song suggest that the singer is struggling with insomnia, "Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy, I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting." However, their chance for escape arrives in the form of a bus full of babies that no one appears to care about, "Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies, it pulled away, and nobody's waving."
The main, refrain for the song is "I'm goin' down to Mexico, Down to Mexico, oh." The singer seems to believe that this is the answer to all of their problems, seeking refuge in Mexico where they can start again. The singer feels a connection to other "banditos" who are just as desperate as they are, with lines like "Smellin' like street folk, keen-o, chico," highlighting the idea that they are willing to do whatever it takes to survive.
The line "C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart, Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart" is a metaphor suggesting that the singer wants to be put out of their misery, rather than continue living life in the state of desperation that they currently find themselves in. Overall, the lyrics to "Mexico" by That Handsome Devil tells a story of someone struggling to find hope in a desperate situation and seeking a better life in a new place.
Line by Line Meaning
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
Unable to sleep and constantly thinking
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Frustrated by the wait for something better
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
Travelers who symbolize a better life
It pulled away, and nobody's waving
The chance for a better life passing by
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Desire to escape the current reality
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
Acceptance of a violent end
We die, muchacho, vamonos
Impending sense of doom and desire to leave
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Escape to a place where problems will disappear
We banditos
Roleplaying as outcasts and rebels
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Trying to appear wealthy with subpar materials
Six-pack of Keystone
Cheap alcohol to escape reality
Lookin' like street folk
Adopting a rough exterior to fit in with the surroundings
We don't need no
Rejecting societal norms and expectations
Power to the people
Expressing belief in a counterculture ideology
Heatstroke, chico
Being delirious from the heat and exhaustion
One, two, three, four
Counting down the journey towards escape
Smellin' like street folk
Not caring about hygiene or appearance
Keen-o, chico
Addressing someone in a casual and relaxed manner
I can see so
Experiencing a hallucination or delusion
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Questioning one's own sanity
Outside, inline
Waiting in line outside for something
At the bus depot
Waiting to leave for a new, better life
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Repeating earlier desire for a violent end
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
Repeating acceptance of a violent end
Contributed by Madison P. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
zoeysingsalot
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away, and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchacho, vamonos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm going down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
We die, muchachos, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchacho, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart (bullet in my heart)
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart (Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart)
(To be alone is to live in a frightening world. A place where fears and insecurities can eat away like acid at the confused mind. There are many such young people today - afterthoughts of broken homes and selfish, unthinking parents. The young can grow like seeking roots in tortured, twisted ways.)
Rick Marr
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away, and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchachos, vamanos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm going down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can't see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, in line
At the bus depot
We die, muchachos, vamanos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchachos, vamanos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can't see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart (bullet in my heart)
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart (Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart)
(To be alone is to live in a frightening
Guerilla Welder
I'm legitimately trying to learn Spanish but I'm German and this makes me so happy because it sounds like German ska. I really need to listen to the Spanish lessons but my main motivation is to be able to speak Spanish and sound like this
Game man
¿Y como te está yendo?
Christian Glover
There's something about God Forbid's voice. Jus brings everything in their songs to an explosion of awesomeness
john360flip
That Handsome Devil is so unique and underrated.They Have such a Diverse Sound and all there songs sound different then the last.
Roy Himo
I fucking love the female vocalist, that voice is just amazing.
GlitchLich
This song is great on a really hot day. It just fits walking down the street sweating like a dog, the sun beaming down, holding a spliff or bottle of your favorite poison!
Nicholas Engelbert
And THD wins the prize of most underrated band ever!
zoeysingsalot
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away, and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchacho, vamonos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm going down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
We die, muchachos, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy
I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting
Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies
It pulled away and nobody's waving
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
We die, muchacho, vamamos
I'm goin' down to Mexico
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
I'm goin' down to Mexico
Down to Mexico, oh
We banditos
Cheap gold sheep's wool
Six-pack of Keystone
Lookin' like street folk
We don't need no
Power to the people
Heatstroke, chico
One, two, three, four
We banditos
Six-pack of Keystone
Smellin' like street folk
Keen-o, chico
I can see so
Good, I think it's heatstroke
Outside, inline
At the bus depot
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart
C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart (bullet in my heart)
Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart (Lie me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart)
(To be alone is to live in a frightening world. A place where fears and insecurities can eat away like acid at the confused mind. There are many such young people today - afterthoughts of broken homes and selfish, unthinking parents. The young can grow like seeking roots in tortured, twisted ways.)
Flanexism 01
zoeysingsalot you’re a life saver
Faken Namen
Up all day, a-thinkin' like crazy I can't get sleep, I'm tired of waiting Along come a bus with a bunk fulla babies It pulled away, and nobody's waving C'mon pretty lady, put a bullet in my heart Lay me on the streets and let the fiends rip me apart We die, muchacho, vamonos I'm goin' down to Mexico