I caught a southbound flight to the border light,
Chasing peace down a restless night.
Dropped my bags in a Tulum dive,
Traded my past for a bar-room guide.
Don Julio waited with a salted grin,
“Forget where you’ve been — begin again.”
I’m living on tequila time
Too much tequila and not enough lime
The clocks all drip in agave haze
I’ve been two shots lost for the last three days
Salt on my lips, and peace in my mind—
Yeah, I’m living on tequila time
Rosita pours with a priestess grace,
Gold bangles dancing, no need to chase.
She says, “Every pour is a prayer, mi amor—
You’ll find more truth near this old bar floor.”
She kissed my hand with a twist of lime,
“Tequila remembers what you leave behind.”
I’m living on tequila time
Too much tequila and not enough lime
The clocks all drip in agave haze
I’ve been two shots lost for the last three days
Salt on my lips, and peace in my mind—
Yeah, I’m living on tequila time
In a candle-lit hush, they raised the glass,
Poured the past in a smoke-stained flask.
“Agave,” she whispered, “is holy wine,
It burns like truth, then tastes divine.”
I knelt to the lime, bit deep on the rind,
And swore to the salt — I’d leave pain behind.
Now I sweep the floor when the last song fades,
Help Rosita count the shades of jade.
A saint of the slow life, I’ve learned to dance, (learned to dance)
Losing your past for a second chance.
The sun paints halos through tequila glass,
And time forgives when you stop looking back. (stop looking back)
No clocks on the wall, no date to recall,
Just waves that know no time at all.
She pours, I sing, and the gold lines climb—
Forever and always on tequila time.