About the Song

In the realm of country music, Toby Keith stands as a towering figure, a true American icon. His music, infused with a rugged patriotism and a deep appreciation for the simple pleasures of life, has resonated with millions of listeners worldwide. Among his vast repertoire of hits, “Good To Go To Mexico” holds a special place, capturing the spirit of wanderlust and the allure of sun-kissed shores.

Released in 2002, “Good To Go To Mexico” is an upbeat, infectiously catchy tune that paints a vivid picture of escape to a tropical paradise. Keith’s signature twangy vocals intertwine seamlessly with the lively guitar riffs and mariachi-inspired instrumentation, creating an irresistible soundscape that transports listeners to a land of warm breezes, margaritas, and endless possibilities.

The song’s lyrics, penned by Keith and Chuck Cannon, are a testament to the power of music to transport us beyond our daily routines and into a world of carefree revelry. Keith paints a picture of a world weary individual, yearning for a respite from the drudgery of everyday life. The chorus, a simple yet powerful declaration of liberation, serves as an anthem for anyone seeking to escape the confines of their routine and embrace the joys of adventure:

“I’m packin’ my bags, I’m headin’ south Good to go to Mexico Where the tequila flows and the music’s loud Good to go to Mexico”

“Good To Go To Mexico” is more than just a catchy tune; it’s an invitation to shed our worries and embrace the spirit of adventure. It’s a reminder that life is too short to be spent bogged down by the mundane, and that sometimes, the best medicine is a change of scenery and a margarita on the beach.

So, the next time you find yourself feeling weighed down by the cares of the world, crank up the volume on “Good To Go To Mexico” and let Toby Keith transport you to a place where worries melt away and the only thing that matters is the next sip of your margarita. After all, as Keith so eloquently reminds us, “It’s always a good time to go to Mexico.”

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Lyrics: Good To Go To Mexico

I can feel a chill of a cold November wind
Here in Oklahoma that means it is wintertime again
Every time I think about the rain and sleet and snow
I start dreamin’ about siestas underneath this sombrero[Chorus 1:]
Baby if you’re good to go we’ll go down to Mexico
Get a place in Cabo, kick back in the sand
It’ll be just you and me and moonlight dancing on the sea
To Spanish guitar melody of a mariachi bandI got two tickets bought
There won’t be no second thought
Weather’s always nice down there in paradise
We’ll find that little man who owns that taco stand
We’ll be drinkin’ margaritas while we’re workin’ on our tan[Chorus 2:]
Baby if you’re good to go we’ll go down to Mexico
Get a place in Cabo, kick back in the sand
If you’ll get off that telephone and put your shorts and sandals on
Tomorrow we’ll be dancing to a mariachi bandCancun don’t get me high
That’s where the snow birds fly
They like to winter there
Then they come from everywhere
I’ll take the Baja sun
It ain’t overrun
With the gringos and the touristas
We might be the only ones

[Repeat Chorus 1 (x2)]

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BOUND BY A STORMY TIDE OF TOXIC LOYALTY AND DEEP DEVOTION, LORETTA LYNN TURNED HER HUSBAND’S GREATEST DEMONS INTO THE UNFLINCHING ANTHEMS OF WORKING-CLASS AMERICA. When fifteen-year-old Loretta Webb married twenty-one-year-old Oliver “Doolittle” Lynn in 1948, she stepped into a life that would test every ounce of her endurance. It was Doolittle who bought her a modest seventeen-dollar Sears guitar—the very instrument that unlocked her destiny—and pushed a terrified young mother onto stages to share her voice with the world. Without his initial push, the legendary Coal Miner’s Daughter might never have found her path. Yet their domestic reality was a far cry from a romanticized country ballad. Doolittle’s heavy drinking, infidelity, and volatile temper left deep emotional scars, but Loretta refused to break. Instead of retreating, she fought back, stayed for her six children, and funneled that raw, agonizing truth straight into her songwriting. Anthems like “Don’t Come Home A-Drinkin’” and “Fist City” ripped the gloss off conventional marriage, giving a public voice to millions of women suffering behind closed doors. She famously noted that every song she wrote carried a piece of her husband inside it. They crossed the milestone of forty-eight years together on January 10, 1996. As Doolittle’s health deteriorated months later, Loretta sang “Wouldn’t It Be Great” to him—the final song she performed for the man who shaped her life before he passed away on August 22, leaving them just 225 days short of their forty-ninth year. Though their union was a turbulent storm of fierce love and deep pain, Doolittle gave her the instrument, their trials gave her the truth, and Loretta forged both into an immortal musical legacy.

BROUGHT IN SOLELY TO SATISFY A RADIO SPONSOR’S ODD DEMAND, ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD ROSE MADDOX STEPPED UP TO THE MICROPHONE AND BECAME THE UNTAMED, ELECTRIFYING HEART OF AMERICA’S MOST COLORFUL HILLBILLY BAND. Rose Maddox didn’t enter country music through a polished Nashville doorway paved with industry blueprints. She arrived via the brutal reality of Depression-era migration, pulling her family away from backbreaking fieldwork in California’s Central Valley where music wasn’t glamour—it was the only way to breathe after a grueling day of picking fruit. In 1937, her brother Fred managed to secure a radio slot for the family in Modesto, hitting a sudden roadblock when the sponsor insisted on having a girl singer. Out of pure necessity rather than career design, eleven-year-old Rose stepped forward. The moment she opened her mouth, however, that simple sponsorship checkbox became the entire focal point. Her voice was bright, razor-sharp, and entirely fearless, sounding less like a child helping out her kin and more like someone kicking the front door off its hinges from the inside. Dubbing themselves “America’s Most Colorful Hillbilly Band,” the Maddox brothers and Rose delivered a high-octane cocktail of honky-tonk drive, boogie-woogie, gospel heat, and flashy road-show swagger. Dressed in loud, eye-catching suits, they played with a raw ferocity that West Coast country had never witnessed. Long before country music knew how to frame women who were funny, stylish, and fiercely commanding, Rose stood right at the front—refusing to ever be treated as mere stage decoration. After the family band’s legendary run dissolved, she forged a formidable solo path, diving deep into bluegrass and earning a well-deserved Grammy nomination for $35 and a Dream, an album title that tipped its hat to her family’s hardscrabble journey west. The young girl once thrown on stage to fill a sponsor’s quota ultimately became the gold standard of raw authenticity—proving to generations of future artists that country music has always possessed an unquenchable fire.