Notes from the Drive Between Simat and Alcoi

The loneliness of wide-openness and the fleeting

Looking for something - anything worth repeating

Give more than you get back - repeatedly and to the ditch

Weaving between mountains in a permanent spring - accidentally rich

Descending and ascending on the holiest of towns

Always hoping for a stage with the working-class sound

With a working-class sound

The breath of everything and a different anonymity

Than this capital illusion that is a major city

The beauty of the waterfall and every single leaf of grass

Was I blinded by the new colors of the gray mass

Descending and ascending on the holiest of towns

Always hoping for a stage with the working-class sound

Descending and ascending on the holiest of towns

Always searching for the stage with the working-class sound

With a working-class sound

I was given these things

I've got ways to make ends meet

I've got ways to make things mean something

I've got ways to make it work

I've got ways to make it worse

At the well of your love I see a future in the eyes

At this other well you have to wait for the water to rise

When I sink in - my lips taste of a dry and salty wine

I was looking for a place of love and mercy that could be anywhere in time