Carlos, Su Auto Y La Calle Mojada
Buenos Muchachos
Carlos, His Car, and the Wet Street
The downtown is left behind
in that pink mist of the asphalt
Just your car and you in the desert
and a song
from the heart
Isolated at the wheel
I follow the line in stripes as if this were the rail...
and the sky doesn't matter...
or death
Eyes are wet.
