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While I wait
and I wait
and the sand jams
the end of my pen
I am pensive
and late
while I wait
and I wait
with the swift winding roar
down the tracks
of Chueca
down the tunnels
I’m boarding
and flying
quite late
towards Diego de León
I should see how late I am.
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i was on the train
on the way to the interview
for my dream job
and i knew it was you
i knew it was you
i knew it was
and you spoke of morocco
and the train went into a tunnel
and i lost you
i lost you
the woman next to me looked up
she was old
and she said,
'tunnels are no good for cell phones. who did you lose?'
i answered,
'my lover.'
and she sat back in her seat
nodding her kerchief-covered head
'your lover. ah, your lover, i see.'
Your lover,
she said,
as a lover
a lover
and only the women
of ages and lost
can really know
the cost of the cost of
what happens between
so what do you do
with the loosing of
lovers and loosing
of always I love you
I love you.
You never are lost.
that is the answer
you never are lost.
have fun in your journey
have fun on your way
whenever you're lost
whenever whenever
you're lost but not lonely.
the question is pure.
Where are you?
What have you lost?
I am here.
I've lost you.
Come to me.
And together.
We will call lostness
our own.
We'll always be home.
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