Tom Waits
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He's got himself a homemade special
You know his glass is full of sand
And it fells 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
Slip 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. Bartholemew said was whispered
Into the ear of Blind Jack Dawes
All the Baker told the machine
Was thet 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
When he was walking spanish down the hall


Mirror lyrics:

When he was walking spanish down the hall
Even Jesus wanted just a little more time
Take off your watch, your rings and all
Go on and tip your hat up to the Pilate
Was thet he never broke the law
All the Baker told the machine
Into the ear of Blind Jack Dawes
All St. Bartholemew said was whispered
He's walking spanish down the hall
Don't say goodbye he's just leaving early
But he'll be somewhere else to hear the call
Tomorrow morning there'll be laundry
They tried it all but he never would
He never sang when he got hoodwinked
Punk Sander's carved it out of wood
Latella's screeching for a blind pig
He's walking spanish down the hall
Every face looks right up at Mason
Even the king has bowed his head
They dim the lights over on Broadway
But he'll need blankets for the cold
What all he done ain't no one's business
Or give him a spoon to dig a hole
Slip him a picture of our Jesus
He's walking spanish down the hall
You never trip, you never stumble
They slap their hands against the wall
He rolled a blade up in his trick towel
The way it fits into his hand
And it fells just like a jaybird
You know his glass is full of sand
He's got himself a homemade special


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