hillside scratchin' on a cheap postcard and i hear chickens running crazy laps in a dusty yard temples of madness and eggs scrambled hard well im soaked thru my shirt but its cold where you are from the park i can see statues of explorers staring out to the harbor sent to destroy us well im soaked thru my shirt but its cold where you are and if everything u say is true and its as simple as a letter never got to u well, if everything u say is true then i believe u that night i dropped the letters home and walked the length of las ramblas tired and alone and inspired but its not too far well im soaked thru my shirt but its cold where you are and if everything u say is true like the frost on these fields of silver [something?] and its as simple as a letter never got to u well if everything u say is true then i believe u