歌词
As a boy in southern Spain, he was born with a silver wing
It poked through collars and tore jacket sleeves
Always there where folks could see
As a boy in southern Spain, folks would stare at his silver wing
Like his mama's temper or his father's crying
He grew accustomed to staring eyes
His church raised money, and his family sent
for a doctor from Algeciras
A fragile woman with trembling hands arrived
by train with a single bag
On a gray steel table, the young man laid
The doctor, she stood over him
Her hand was trembling, she drew a blade
Down his back, along his wing
His chest rose with an anguished gasp
The gauze soaked through, his color left
Blood pooled down along his back
His chest fell with his last breath
The doctor left on the morning train
With butcher's paper and a single bag
The grieving family couldn't afford a grave
For the young man with the silver wing
