Latin Gate

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