He travels the sphere
As he sail across
the ocean of fear
He has thirst for experience
Just like hunters eye for a deer

He carries his knapsack
Ready to set off for a journey
With 2 years before his comeback
He leaves the land of brasa
Playin' his Red Hot Chili soundtrack

Enamored by her glance
He met this gal
He offers her to dance
Singing their hearts out
As if he was stuck in a trance

Little did he know she's a faker--
Alluring travellers with one deep gaze
Her ability to paralyse the sufferer
And words as sharp as knife
Makes her one hell of a lucifer

From a heartbreaker
He thought he had a chance
He swore to never wander
And to not set foot
In another land ever
*again

nothing stands a chance
everything around her falls in love
maybe it's the way her eyes
have a deep, even cruel sadness
that captivates your soul
with a smile that makes you
forget the reason for your existence,
and the sadness in her eyes
maybe it's her sweet voice
tantalizing, seductive, tempting
she's like all the books you've ever loved
don't let her touch you
you won't escape
but catch a glimpse and you won't look away
the mysteries of an untamable woman
she's endless, loving, magic
to the passing of her beloved
she gained me,
heartbreaking luck

And nobody is going to love you half as much as I am trying to.

There are orange canyons
against a crystal sky that I would like
to return to someday.

Fat cacti sit amongst the
landscape of Mars, of
one hundred and seventeen degree
heat,

oppressive weather, like God left us in
his car while he went to do some
errands, and forgot to crack the windows.

I would still like to feel that once
more before I go on to some greener
pasture. Some Colorado spring where
I could believe in miracles
all wrapped in
gold, trapped in the bottom of a blue river.
Where I could start my life
over.

he comes to me at three in the morning,
my hair a mess, my feet in slippers,
my attire dingy, but my eyes sparkling.

drunk and tired, hiding behind a tree
so my father won't see; he holds me;
light drizzle and cigarette smoke,
hazy eyes and alcohol breath;
trying to make the best of it.

he's no romeo, and i'm no juliet;
but my parents are Capulets
and he's the dangerous boy
involved with their princess.

sitting beneath a tree
at three in the morning,
no place i'd rather be;

he's no romeo,
but he's all i need.

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