On the blood red tiles
Of that room in the mountains
My heart wildly sang
As her petticoasts fell
Struck down by her beauty
And the moon on her dark skin
I prayed not to dream then
Though I dream often now

Deep down in the bottle
El gusano is waiting (the worm is waiting)
To teach us his knowledge
Of women and love
With worm, salt and lime
I will taste of his wisdom
I will drink to her memory
Drink the golden mezcal

In the hills of Durango
Through the streets of Huachaca
I chased her to Iguela
Then north to Cuernavaca
I found her in Taxco
But I lost her somehow
Now each night I embrace her
In the shadow of a dream
On the winqs of Mezcal

Words and music by Tom Russell © 1985 End of the Trail Music (CAPAC) Administered by Bug Music