[00:00.00]90听音乐网 www.90T8.com [00:24.35]The man outside who works for me his name is Mariano [00:29.53]He cuts and trims the grass for me he makes the flowers bloom [00:35.13]He says that he comes from a place not far from Guantanamo [00:40.32]It's two days on a bus from here a lifetime from this room [00:47.13]I fix his meals and talk to him in my own broken Spanish [00:52.32]He points at things and tells me names of things I can't recall [00:57.78]But sometimes I just can't but help but wonder who this man is [01:03.26]And yet when he's gone will he remember me at all [01:09.98]I watch him close he works just like a piston in an engine [01:15.24]He only stops to take a drink and smoke a cigarette [01:20.61]And when the day is ended I look out side my window [01:26.10]There on the horizon Mariano's silhouette [01:42.15]He sits upon a stone in a south easterly direction [01:47.41]I know my charts I know that he is thinking of his home [01:52.91]I've never been the sort to say I'm into intuition [01:58.03]But I swear I've seen the faces of the one's he calls his own [02:04.80]Their skin is brown as potter's clay their eyes void of expression [02:10.16]Their hair is black as widow's dreams their dreams are all but gone [02:15.54]Their ancient exhibitions of a sacrificial virgin [02:21.18]And in the sun he's crying from a baby being born [02:27.51]They wrap around a dying flame and pray for his protection [02:32.77]Their prayers are often answered by his letters in the mail [02:38.16]He sends them colored figures he cuts from strips of paper [02:43.52]And all his weekly wages saving nothing for himself [03:02.19]It's been a while since I've seen the face of Mariano [03:07.43]The border guards they came one day and took him far away [03:12.74]I hope that he is safe down there at home in Guantanamo [03:17.88]I worry though I hear there's revolution everyday
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[00:00.00]90听音乐网 www.90T8.com[00:24.35]The man outside who works for me his name is Mariano
[00:29.53]He cuts and trims the grass for me he makes the flowers bloom
[00:35.13]He says that he comes from a place not far from Guantanamo
[00:40.32]It's two days on a bus from here a lifetime from this room
[00:47.13]I fix his meals and talk to him in my own broken Spanish
[00:52.32]He points at things and tells me names of things I can't recall
[00:57.78]But sometimes I just can't but help but wonder who this man is
[01:03.26]And yet when he's gone will he remember me at all
[01:09.98]I watch him close he works just like a piston in an engine
[01:15.24]He only stops to take a drink and smoke a cigarette
[01:20.61]And when the day is ended I look out side my window
[01:26.10]There on the horizon Mariano's silhouette
[01:42.15]He sits upon a stone in a south easterly direction
[01:47.41]I know my charts I know that he is thinking of his home
[01:52.91]I've never been the sort to say I'm into intuition
[01:58.03]But I swear I've seen the faces of the one's he calls his own
[02:04.80]Their skin is brown as potter's clay their eyes void of expression
[02:10.16]Their hair is black as widow's dreams their dreams are all but gone
[02:15.54]Their ancient exhibitions of a sacrificial virgin
[02:21.18]And in the sun he's crying from a baby being born
[02:27.51]They wrap around a dying flame and pray for his protection
[02:32.77]Their prayers are often answered by his letters in the mail
[02:38.16]He sends them colored figures he cuts from strips of paper
[02:43.52]And all his weekly wages saving nothing for himself
[03:02.19]It's been a while since I've seen the face of Mariano
[03:07.43]The border guards they came one day and took him far away
[03:12.74]I hope that he is safe down there at home in Guantanamo
[03:17.88]I worry though I hear there's revolution everyday
