on the day that I found I was travelling
with words too heavy
hammering my skull
was the day that I woke on a train
looked around in my cabin
heard the rhythm of the wagon
repeating, the beating:
there`s a morning on the way
when you`re locked like a thief
in the poor arms of expectation
oxygen is thin
in the middle of Spain but you`re
freezing from isolation
get yourself together and sing:
there`s a morning on the way
