I´m tired of lickin´ them boots that been-a-kickin´ me!
Sick of them sour grapes they keep-a pickin´ me!
Set loose your wings, cut the strings of your puppeteers
Freedom begins, baby, between your ears
Reach for the sky
You do not have to buy what they been advertisin´
Not when you´re mile high and risin!
Opened my eyes to the lies that´d been a-trickin´ me!
Cut all the horns, pulled the thorns that´d been-stickin´ me!
Chorus
If you got the feelin´ what they´re dealin´ got you livin´ under way too low a ceiling...
Cut through your doom and your gloom
C´mon and grab yourself some headroom
Chorus
| 1 | Banditos |
| 2 | ¡Americano! |
| 3 | Counterclockwise |
| 4 | Mexico |
| 5 | Lemons |
| 6 | I Don't Need Another Thrill |
| 7 | Honky Tonk Union |
| 8 | Persephone |
| 9 | State of the Art |
| 10 | Easy |