The old West, the old time, br The old wind singing through br The red, red grass a thousand miles - br And Spanish Johnny, you! br He'd sit beside the water ditch br When all his herd was in, br And never mind a child, but sing br To his mandolin. br br The big stars, the blue night, br The moon-enchanted lane; br The olive man who never spoke, br But sang the songs of Spain. br His speech with men was wicked talk - br To hear it was a sin; br But those were golden things he said br To his mandolin. br br The gold songs, the gold stars, br The world so golden then; br And the hand so tender to a child - br Had killed so many men. br He died a hard death long ago br Before the Road came in - br The night before he swung, he sang br To his mandolin.