American Corrido

American Corrido

All my stories are about the action of grace on a character who is not very willing to support it, but most people think these stories as hard, hopeless and brutal. —Flannery O'Connor

Anyone can find Grace—even the Devil can deliver it.
Back when corridos sang about car crashes,
the Misfit had escaped from the Federal Pen.
A family's car was unhinged from the road they're lost on.

The Misfit just escaped from the Federal Pen,
On the run in a big black battered hearse-like car—
He looked and was unhinged from the road he was lost on.
The last one begged with flowers in her hat and gloves of a lady.

Not far from his big black battered hearse-like car,
The Misfit said bodies never give undertakers tips.
The last one died with flowers in her hat and gloves of a lady.
The shots seemed to echo perpetually into cloudless sky.

The Misfit said bodies never give undertakers tips.
Anyone can find Grace—even the Devil can deliver it.
The shots seemed to echo perpetually into cloudless sky,
back when corridos sang about car crashes.