I was 18 years old just a research volunteer;

I walked home from the TCBY each night with no fear.

One particular starry 11 o'clock

I went down by the water;

an old man with a burlap bag

said How you doin' my daughter.

He put me in the hole of his old rusty crawler

and fed me three pills a day to keep me from getting taller.

Learned me the rosary and made me pray to Santiago:

I wish I wish I was back in Chicago.

Up the river to Seville I was rowing and strumming

on my portable guitar my fair lady a humming

The pain, the pain, in Spain falls mainly on me.

The pain, the pain, in Spain falls mainly on me.