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