Lletres: Celtic Frost. Parched With Thirst Am I And Dying. Mexican Radio.

I feel a hot wind on my shoulder
And the touch of a world that is older
I turn the switch and check the number
I leave it on when in bed I slumber
I hear the rhythms of the music
I buy the product and never use it
I hear the talking of the deejay
Can't understand just what does he say

Chorus
I'm on a mexican radio
I'm on a mexican - whao - radio

I dial it in and tune the station
They talk about u.s. inflation
I understand just a little
No comprende it's a riddle


Chorus - 4 times

I wish I was in tijuana
Eating barbequed iguana
I'd take requests on the telephone
I'm on a wavelength far from home
I feel a hot wind on my shoulder
I did it in from south of the border
I hear the talking of the deejay
Can't understand just what does he say

What does he say?