Spain, Mave

MAVE - SINGS FROM HER GARDEN

She was singing in her garden 

The faint sound of morning love rose from the farmhouse below

These empty streets

Reminds me of a place we never came too

A cave we hide from the world

We kiss strangers with little joy only imagination

Feels better than settling down you know

Breezing over the landscape

Dirt red dusty 

When we come to collect payment

I come home to a place with no grand adventures 

Only prayer that one day I will find you again