And I want
I want to go far
Far exactly from here
Somewhere
The noise, the corruption and I don’t
want to surrender through these politics
down south where they’re a backwards world
I need some release change

Where am I
Where do I go?
I don’t care
However where I go
Andalusia, Bratislavia, Coimbra, Cranberra, Gijon, Yemen
Dancing on the Dead Sea
On my feet in Turkey

I want to go far
Somewhere I’m not known on
Where nobody cares about my business and private decency
Let me breathe
Let me be calm
Let me be me

The President
Today Benafim got a new president of the local council
he is a stern type wants to do away with meals on wheels
close the old people's home for those who cannot pay.
He promises to reduce taxes to a cheering crowd of fruit
And sheep farmers, this will attract businesses to set
up shop, the local hairdresser thinks he is wonderful.
He is a coarse man speaks uncultured Portuguese, not that
I would know, but that's what the manager of the home
she went to university in Coimbra and had a degree.
Rumours have that he has touched up women fifty angry
females stay outside the post office which is also
The president's place of work. Not that I care, I was posting
a letter, but was blocked by women with placards
I will wait till next week when the anger dies down a bit

When heavy mists decided to retreat
And undertows turned down their graze
The hoary ocean accepted his defeat
And distant shore ahead arose ablaze

How many nights have seen the face
Of loud joys and silent wonders
Coimbra! What a lovely place
Your songs kept captive spanless numbers

And even more fell in a slumber
Under her lulling velvet tunes
Her poems spurt with blood of umber
But then it’s you who’s left with wounds

Side note: consider it a crime
To put blanc feelings in a rhyme