Met her in old Mexico
She was laughing sad and young
In a smokey room no-one could see
Her favorite poets all agreed
Spanish is a loving tongue
But she never spoke Spanish to me
She was born in Monterey
And all the Christmas songs were sung
The padre knew what she'd grow up to be
Saints and sinners all agree
Spanish is a loving tongue
But she never spoke Spanish to me
Like a lion screamin' in the jungleo
She never could in what she couldn't see
She spoke to all the shadows in her bungalow
But she never spoke Spanish to me
She said, "If you're from Texas, son
Then where's your boots and where's your gun?"
I smiled and said, "I got guns, no-one can see"
We laughed at that, we both agreed
Spanish is a loving tongue
But she never spoke Spanish to me
I left her in old Mexico
She was laughing sad and young
In a smokey room and no-one could see
Her favorite poets all agreed
Spanish is a loving tongue
But she never spoke Spanish to me
She never spoke Spanish to me
Writer(s): Butch Hancock
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