Just in case Time leaves me stranded on some desert island
Today I close the logbook of all my dead time
I keep making my birds of clay
I keep making my own birds of clay
And I put them to flight
Just in case Time leaves me stranded on some desert island
I refuse to fall prey to neglect and sadness
Not a single blank page again
I feel the wonder of some lonesome passerby
I get lost in my sea charts
As I sail through their pages
Now the wind starts blowing
Though I lost sight of the sea a while ago
I no longer face the uphill on the road to your doorstep
I don't put my old doggy to sleep by your candle
It's at the angles of clock hands where feelings find their nesting place
Today they are birds of clay that are willing to fly
I get lost in the valleys
I spend the night on highways
Now the wind starts blowing
Though I lost sight of the sea a while ago
When I find myself shipwrecked, out of oars and guitar strings
When the morning nightingale ceases to sing into my ear
Now the wind starts blowing
Though I lost sight of the sea a while ago
I get lost in the valleys
I spend the night on highways
Manolo Garcia - "Pájaros de Barro"
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