I visit South America via a dead man’s words
Undercover priests and barren parks.
I visit through a different man’s images,
Exercising in his underwear,
Laminating the past.
Laminating the past.
I’ve never been to Mexico City,
But I recognise the light.
(I recognise the light.)
I’ve never been to Santiago
Its history keeps me up at night.
(Keeps me up at night)
keeps me up at night.
(Keeps me up at night)
keeps me up at night.
(Keeps me up at night)
People sell mobile phone holsters
In shaded kiosks
In an urban sprawl that moves at a crawl.
I once took a European night train, but now
I wait for something to enter the frame.
Enter the frame.
Enter the frame.
I’ve never been to Mexico City,
But I recognise the light.
I’ve never been to Santiago
Its history keeps me up at night.
Keeps me up at night
keeps me up at night.
Keeps me up at night
keeps me up at night.
Keeps me up at night
I’ve never been to Mexico City,
But I recognise the light.
(I recognise the light.)
I’ve never been to Santiago
Its history keeps me up at night.
(Keeps me up at night)
keeps me up at night.
(Keeps me up at night)
keeps me up at night.
(Keeps me up at night)
compositores: Paul Smith
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