Mountain Goats, The
Going To Bolivia
john: it is the only appliance that grinds the grain into flour and kneads the dough in the same container I cut myself a two-foot switch from some tropical hardwood nearby. and the sounds of a carnival drifted miraculously through the air from a thousand miles away. the monkeys jumped from tree to tree. it sent a deathly chill through me in bolivia wildcats I had never seen claimed places in my room. animal noises rang through the thick brush like voices from the tomb. I saw the freshly polished chrome Letras de cancionesgleaming in the mid-day sun. and I knew that you were coming home to bolivia. hey hey
From Letras Mania