Elevator, A Place Called Home plays in the background.

The elevator doors open and the traveler walks in. He sighs to himself as the music plays, the lilting melody carrying the tune of his heart. The elevator doors close and open to reveal a pack of women who enter the elevator on teh next floor. Tight jeans, cheap perfume, lots of cleavage. The word creeps slowly into his brain: sorostitutes. Maybe not exactly, but the same in spirit.

It was a friday night and they were going where everyone else was going: to get drunk or laid; preferably both. The traveler tries to listen to their conversation through the music but he can’t. It’s too inane for him to comprehend. Or maybe the music is too loud. It gets louder as he concentrates on ignoring the girls and their cleavage.

The doors open and he steps outside in a hurry to get away from the stench of sex. Someday I’ll go where there ain’t no rain or snow.

Street, Esta Cobardia plays in the background.

The traveler hurries now. Why? There’s nowhere he’s going, he has no particular destination and he certainly doesn’t have a timeline. Thoughts are the only thing that exist for him right now.

He sighs again and looks up at the sky. It’s clear, save for a few random clouds. This cowardice that I have that makes me see her as a star, so far from reality that I cannot ever hope to reach her.

Another sigh but this time he slows down. He understands that he’s not going anywhere, he’s not getting anywhere. Time to take it slow, bro. She doesn’t even notice that I’ve had her without ever loving her.

Bridge, El Reloj

Don’t mark the time, because I’m going insane.

It’s only been ten minutes. It’s been ten minutes and he’s hardly reached the bridge. The traveler is learning now: there’s nowhere he’s going.

Stop on your tracks because my light is dying. Make this night eternal. A number popped in his head. Not really, not just one. Many numbers popped into his head, but they all meant the same damn thing. Don’t mark the time because my light is dying. Stop time in your hands and make this night eternal.

Street Crossing, Tal Vez

Now he’s making time, he’s got his stride down pat. In just a few minutes he crosses one leg of his journey: one step at a time.

Maybe it was me who didn’t give you a full night. Maybe I never gave you what you wanted and I wasn’t there when you needed me. Maybe I didn’t listen, maybe I was careless.

Maybe I forgot that I loved you. Just maybe.

He sees the cars driving in front of him but he doesn’t notice them. There’s people around but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s by himself. He needs time to think. I don’t find a single reason why I shouldn’t be without you.

Maybe I never even knew who I loved.

Forest, The Impossible Dream

A pair of raccoons dart before him into the dark underbrush. To run where the brave dare not go.

To right the unrightable wrong. Dare hope take hold in the darkness? To try when your arms are too weary. No matter how hopeless. Now matter how far.

Was he willing to die? So that honor and justice may live. He wondered what would happen if, in this darkness, someone would jump out at him. He had no weapons, he just had a $150 walkman and $70 in his pockets – not to mention the ATM.

Still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable star. Ironic, he thought.

Boardwalk, Malaguena Salerosa

Clack clack clack. His shoes sounded on the boarded wood as he walked through. What pretty eyes you have beneath your eyebrows.

He wondered where he was going. Nowhere, he quickly answered himself – there was nowhere for a guy like him to go. There was no going back and there was no going forward. Malaguena Salerosa.

I wish to kiss your lips, Malaguena, and call you a pretty girl. You’re beautiful and enchanting. He tried to imitate the sustained “iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” of beautiful but he couldn’t. People would stare funny. He didn’t care.

Malaguena Salerosa.

Balantine, My Way

The end wasn’t near, he wasn’t even halfway through the beginning. I’ll say it clear, I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.

He was thinking of before – the days before today, before tomorrow and yesterday and the week before. He was thinking far far into the past, into a past he hadn’t seen in a long time. It wasn’t the past of his memories, it was another past. Regrets, I’ve had a few. But then again, too few to mention.

Someone sped past him on the road. Yes, there were times, I’m sure you knew, when I bit off more than I could chew. But I ate up my doubt and spit it out and faced it all and stood tall.

And did it my way.

Union, If I Ruled the World

A bunch of people were sitting outside the union. Five black guys, two black girls and two white guys. He smiled at that thought, though precisely what he found amusing he didn’t know. If I ruled the world, every man would be as free as a bird.

The traveler could see through the window that the lab was full. If I ruled the world every man would say the world was his friends.

There’d be sunshine in everyone’s sky if the day ever dawns when I rule the world.

Sample Gates, Bang Bang

He could see past the gates down Kirkwood, the throng of people going to and fro. Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

He remembered, then, what she had said about Nancy Sinatra. Had he remembered? When I grew up I called him mine. Perhaps it wasn’t his memory, or perhaps it wasn’t her in the memory. But it was somebody, and that somebody right now took her shape. Bang bang, I used to shoot you down.

She was the reason he was walking – she was always the reason he was walking. Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

Kirkwood, La Vie en Rosse

Drunken people surrounded him, the smell of smoke filled the street, wafting out from the slightly ajar doors of the bars. There was mirth and merryment but he couldn’t see much of it. He was listening to the music playing.

He passed by Nick’s and thought about settling in for a drink. No, he thought to himself, the journey wasn’t over. It likely would never be over, but right now he hadn’t finished and he wasn’t going to stop. Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast, this is life through rose colored glasses.

As he walked past a crowd of drunken fools jumping on a truck, he smiled. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be La Vie en Rosse.

Trumpets blared and he laughed. He laughed at the dichotomy, he laughed at the stupidty, and for a long second he laughed at himself and at his inability to join this world. What a fool. What a fool indeed.