He 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
Every face looks right up at Mason, He's walking Spanish down the hall

Latella's screeching for a blind pig,
Punk Sander's 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 good bye, he's just leaving early,
He's walking Spanish down the hall
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All St. Bartholomew said was whispered
Into the ear of Blind Jack Dawes
All the 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