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 have got ways to make ends meet I have got ways to make things mean something I have got ways to make it work I have 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