I was eighteen years old, just a research volunteer
I walked home from the TCBY each night with no fear
One particular starry eleven 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