Hammer and a nail
Hammer and a nail
Saint behind the glass
Holds a hammer and a nail

This Los Lobos tune from Kiko has been spinning in relentless 6/8 timing inside my head for weeks. There's always been something about 1-2-3-4-5-6 that circles in interesting little vortexes. But with this sweet song, it's even more compelling because interpretation of the lyrics can travel off in several directions.

Makes you wonder who's the saint behind the glass with the hammer and a nail? You might consider that it's Christ himself, the original independent contractor. In the Chapel of St. Agnes in Towanda, Pennsylvania, where my mother has attended Mass since she was a small girl, there's this statue of Christ smoothing a board with a carpenter's plane. It's one of my favorite depictions of him, because he's working at his trade. It always makes me wonder what kind of wood was available to carpenters back then, before the days of SPF.

More likely though, David Hidalgo is singing about Saint Joseph, the patron saint of carpenters.

Baby in his arms
Baby in his arms
Saint behind the glass
Has a baby in his arms

St. Joseph is often shown either holding carpenters' tools, a lily, or a baby in his arms. The baby, of course, is Christ.

St. Joseph is called the silent saint because none of his words were ever recorded. He's supposed to symbolize quiet faith.

Along with being the patron saint of carpenters, he's also the patron saint of working people, craftsmen, wheelrights, families, and interestingly, people who are in doubt, and so on...

Watches me sleep
Watches me sleep
Saint behind the glass
Watches me while I sleep

St. Joseph's protectiveness of his infant adopted son is why care-giving facilities often take on his name. Like St. Joseph's Hospital in Elmira, New York.

St. Joseph is also the patron saint of dying people.

Why he's behind glass, I can't say. There are those saints encased in glass that never rot. They just lie there in peace, century after century. The long, holy nap. There's also the time I walked through two ancient Spanish missions just north of Mexico. Everywhere inside the missions were these little crèches, just windows really. You peered into them, and there was a saint in there. Sometimes the saint was looking down, thinking. Sometimes reaching upward with both hands. Sometimes the saint was looking right at you, reaching toward you.

Or maybe it's just his portrait, hanging on a wall. In a hospital waiting room.

Coffee in the air
Coffee in the air
Saint behind the glass
Smells coffee in the air

Curtains blowing 'round
Curtains blowing 'round
Saint behind the glass
Sees curtains blowing 'round

After I listened to these words a few times, I began to suspect there's a scenario here that's rather immediate. Somebody might be trying to stay awake with coffee and fresh air, waiting for something to happen.

Night upon my head
Night upon my head
Night upon my head
Lays night upon my head

I'm sorry to tell you this, but I think the one who is telling us this story, he has just up and died. St. Joseph is also the patron saint of peaceful death.

Night upon my head
Night upon my head
Night upon my head
Lays night upon my head

Our narrator, there's a good bet that he is Christ. Who better than St. Joseph to lay night upon his head and to comfort Mary in her darkest hour?

But I picture a more current scenario. It's the glass, the coffee, and the curtains. It might be a little bizarre, but the saint holding the baby could be a doctor or a nurse presenting him to his family from behind a glass partition. Only in this case, there's waiting, and coffee, curtains blowing, and more waiting, and a portrait of Saint Joseph on the wall.

Saint Joseph also happens to be one of the Patron Saints of Mexico.

Anyway, he just hangs there there in this hospital waiting room, and this little baby, he does not make it 'til dawn.

What is this song about? You tell me.