Bromberg David - Spanish Johnny

Those other years, those dusty years 


When we drove the big hearse through 


I tried to forget the miles we rode 


and Spanish Johnny, you! 


He’d sit beside a water ditch 


When all his herd was in 


He’d never harm a child 


But sing to his mandolin 


He sang the old songs, the old talk 


And the dealin’ of our games 


Spanish Johnny seldom spoke 


But sang songs of Spain 


And his talk with men was vicious talk 


When he was drunk on gin 


But those were golden things he said 


To his mandolin 


We had to stand, we had to judge 


We had to stop him then 


See those hands so gentle to a child 


Had killed so many men 


He died a hard death long ago 


Before the roads came in 


And the night before he swung 


He sang to his mandolin 


We carried him out in the morning light 


The man who done no good 


Laid him down in a cold, cold clay 


Stuck in a cross of wood 


And a letter we wrote to his kinfolks 


To tell’em where he’d been 


We shipped it on down to Mexico 


Along with the mandolin






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