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 in 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.