LEGACY OF ROADS

Guitar in hand, backpack on shoulder, desire to stay...
Each stop is a poem, a song, a story... the way I say.

Bundled up in the anxiety of a country boy.
And, fueled by the desire to discover other toys.

Learning to enjoy popular sayings to fill the emptiness
of the stomach with ideals, those to forgiveness.

Listening is more important than talking, no betray.
That's why I said little of what I had to say. So much to say.

Walking around with a little weight of knowledge and focus
on the innocent child. Hope, joy and in illusion in chorus.

From the landscapes I saw I brought more than dust.
I brought the figure of me who learned to laugh and trust.

The certainty that the verse to be heard needs to be sung.
Corner to corner with my guitar, my voice, the cloud around.

I don't remember the sound of cities or beggars. Believe.
Only lovers under my jacket, in a heart desiring not to leave.

I played in each bar with different partners, not fighting.
I won for writing what I felt, without lying. Still not lying.

I wrote love and peace to everybody with just six strings
and I sang songs about the experience of the elders, my kings.

My testimony is my jeans and these worn-out sneakers.
My guitar, this song and maybe a harmonica, all teachers.

I led crowds singing hymns to love, out of tune, strong.
Directing power back to the people, in the form of song.

In peace, continuing walking roads, kind of front to back.
Always walking to reach my deep self what I really lack.
With the courage of seeking myself, simple and happy.
In peace, continuing walking roads, kind of front to back.
Always walking to reach my deep self what I really lack.
With the courage of seeking myself, simple and happy.