"Half moon in Mexico city, I think of you"
Last night I dreamed about a runaway on a jeweled elephant walking on wet asphalt. I felt a gypsy's breath over my face asking: Who cries a thousand lakes and gets drunk of tears? I don't know if I'm scared or tired of big cities and the people living in them; shining artifacts made irrelevant the answer. The wind blows wildly and I sing happy birthday. I'm not sure if I already woke up, I'm listening a wise German's words, all the songs, all the film dialogues.
I started smoking, the rain stopped...
I started smoking, the rain stopped...