Those other years, the dusty years We drove the big hers through I tried to forget the miles we rode And spanish johnny too He'd sit beside a water ditch when all this herd was in And he'd never harm a child but sing to his mandolin
The old talk, the old ways, and the dealin' of our game But spanish johnny never spoke, but sing a song of spain And his talk with men was vicious talk When he was drunk on gin Ah, but those were golden things he said to his mandolin
We had to stand, we tried to judge, we had to stop him then For the hand so gentle to a child had killed so many men He died a hard death long ago before the road come in And the night before he swung he sung to his mandolin
Well, we carried him out in the mornin' sun A man that done no good And we lowered him down in the cold clay Stuck in a cross of wood And a letter we wrote to his kinfolk To tell them where he'd been And we shipped it out to mexico, along with his mandolin
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