Met her in old mexico
She was laughing sad and young
In a smokey room no-one could see
All the poets they agreed
Spanish is a loving tongue but
She never spoke spanish to me

She was born in Monterey
And all the Christmas songs were sung
The padre knew what she'd grow up to be
Saints and sinners all agree
Spanish is a loving song
But she never spoke Spanish to me

She never
She spoke to all the shadows in her bungalow
But she never spoke Spanish to me.

She said If you're from Texas,son,
Where's your boots and where's your gun
I smiled and said I got guns no-one can see
She laughed at that and both agreed
Spanish is a loving tongue but
She never spoke Spanish to me.

I left her in old Mexico....