Yo Mismo

I grabbed my desires and my guitar
and started walking
lost in Madrid
looking for a place with rhythm
with a backpack on my shoulder
and with two pieces of bread
some walkman, a Triana tape
with the song I Know of a Place

I put on a leather jacket
to look more like a rocker
it was that typical image
of a fifteen-year-old kid
who swore to himself
that he would take flight
and what I really liked
was feeling flamenco.

With a lot of crap in my shoes
and very short on cash
I entered a strange little bar
called Candela
I went down some narrow stairs
and found myself in a cave
and suddenly I was in the middle
of a flamenco party.

My guitar with four strings
and a bit of swagger
J.B. around all the tables
was my introduction
nerves don't bother me
because of that I know a lot.

They left me at 9 in the morning
I was being a pain
ended up at Atocha station
on a bench, sprawled out
the backpack as a pillow
and the guitar by my side
and a double fatigue
in my body
from a flamenco hangover.

I was in the best part of the dream
and heard a voice
right away, road
and blanket, said the conductor
he sat down next to me
and asked quietly
if I knew any of the songs
that Camarón sang.

And by the way he was acting
he wanted me to go back to sleep
I had to come up with a song
even if I had to make it up
and there like a fool
singing so they would leave me alone

[Chorus]

Rock soul
I've gotten into my own skin
flamenco heart
from head to toe.