travelling is a fading way to an early grave run through the jungle past the poison home for a few days i can say "but hey" and try my best to pretend i'm not tired of you try to meminisse before it all drifts away i might spend all my time in lands of make-believe when it gets too real you start to deceive chorus i can be barefoot cigar in my hand latin gate is a picture-framed away too beautiful to be discrete