Wade Bowen - Day of the dead

^AmIt's a hundred and t^Gen here in Laj^Amitas Piñatas on the prome^Enade

Lining up for the Pa^Amrade ^AmOh the river is do^Gwn here in L^Amajitas Steering down the banks of Me^Exico

If I slipped across and just kept drifting o^Amn

It's the D^Cay of the D^Gead here in Laj^Fitas Dirt still fresh under the st^Eone ^AmNow our lo^Gve's gone home to J^Amesus ^AmYou're wearing whi^Ete in San Anto^Amne

^AmMet an old va^Gquero from No^Amgales Said that he once wore my sh^Eoes

Oh and he had nothing left to lo^Amse

It's the D^Cay of the De^Gad here in Laji^Ftas Dirt still fresh under the st^Eone ^AmNow our lo^Gve's gone home to J^Amesus ^AmYou're wearing whi^Ete in San Anto^Amne

^AmDreamed I hea^Grd the Mariachis s^Aminging You and I were dancing toe to ^Etoe

I woke up clinging to a g^Amhost

It's the Da^Cy of the De^Gad here in Laj^Fitas Dirt still fresh under the st^Eone ^AmNow our lov^Ge's gone home to Je^Amsus ^AmYou're wearing w^Ehite in San Ant^Amone ^AmYeah now our lov^Ge's gone home to J^Amesus ^AmYou're wearing wh^Eite ^EYou're wearing white in San Anto^Amne