He's got himself a homemade special

You know his glass is full of sand

And it feels just like a jaybird the way it fits into his hand

He rolled a blade up in his trick towel

They slap their hands against the wall

You never trip, you never stumble

He's walking Spanish down the hall



Slip him a picture of our Jesus

Or give him a spoon to dig a hole

What all he done ain't no one's business

But he'll need blankets for the cold

They dim the lights over on Broadway

Even the king has bowed his head

And every face looks right up at Mason

Man he's walking Spanish down the hall



Litella's screeching for a blind pig

Punk Sanders carved it out of wood

He never sang when he got hoodwinked

They tried it all but he never would

Tomorrow morning there'll be laundry

But he'll be somewhere else to hear the call

Don't say goodbye, he's just leaving early

He's walking Spanish down the hall



All St. Barthelemew said

Was whispered into the ear of Blind Jack Dawes

All Baker told the machine was that he never broke the law

Go on and tip your hat up to the Pilate

Take off your watch, your rings and all

Even Jesus wanted just a little more time

When he was walking Spanish down the hall