Blues Del Autobús

Every day I wake up
in a different room
where I find my bones
as the sun comes up.

We sleep little and more
burning through our health
just to reach the fifth hell
where I’ll sing again
what are you up to?

Every day a concert
a rehearsal, some attention
that I manage knowing
that it’s my life I’m giving.

No tricks, no bullshit
I’m just as you see me.
I know more from being a dog than being old
but I’m starting to miss
one minute between you and me.

I live on the road
inside a bus.
I live on the road
parked in a blues.

I live on the road
always looking south.
I live on the road
the bus blues.

If we could stop for one more minute
I need to make a call.
If we could sleep a few more hours
before we start to play.

I feel like that gear
never sounds the same,
what mystery could it be?
If we manage to connect
the rest can be forgotten.

I live on the road
inside a bus ...