The day of the dead

I took a trip down to Mexico.
I tried to find my hairless dog.
I was searching in every crevice, when something strange came out of the fog.

I heard a scream - can this be.
This woman she had no head
I turned, something grabbed me.
How was I to know this was the day of the dead?

I saw this hand just like a reptile, I heard a ripping of my clothes
Almost naked I broke free to see her skull looking down at me.

I heard a scream - can this be.
This woman she had no head.
I turned, something grabbed me.
How was I to know this was the day of the dead?

Now I'm buried down in Mexico.
These women they suck my blood.
Now I wonder must I stay rotting here in a shallow grave.

I screamed - what can this be there's a scratching from above
What do I see in the moonlight, it was Tex my hairless dog