Spanish Johnny

The old West, the old time, The old wind singing through The red, red grass a thousand miles -- And Spanish Johnny, you! He'd sit beside the water ditch When all his herd was in, And never mind a child, but sing To his mandolin. The big stars, the blue night, The moon-enchanted lane; The olive man who never spoke, But sang the songs of Spain. His speech with men was wicked talk -- To hear it was a sin; But those were golden things he said To his mandolin. The gold songs, the gold stars, The world so golden then; And the hand so tender to a child -- Had killed so many men. He died a hard death long ago Before the Road came in -- The night before he swung, he sang To his mandolin.