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 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.