i was 18 years old just a research volunteer;
i walked home from the tcby each night with no fear.
one particular starry 11 o clock
i went down by the water;
an old man with a burlap bag
said how you doin my daughter.
he put me the hole of his old rusty crawler
and fed me three pills a day to keep me from getting taller.
learned me the rosary and made me pray to santiago:
i wish i wish i was back in chicago.
up the river to seville i was rowing and strumming
on my portable guitar my fair lady a humming
the pain, the pain, in spain falls mainly on me.
the pain, the pain, in spain falls mainly on me |