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Walking Spanish (Waits Tom)

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 Slim 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 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 He's walking spanish down the hall