I come back after a week and everything is changed.
The weather is different
I left on a rainy afternoon and I thought that was gonna be the landscape that would welcome me back
But after leaving the airport a purple warm sunrise was the setting for today.
All the signs on the street are different
Different plays in theatres
Different movies in cinemas
New exhibitions
But the smell of summer is still the same
This particularly cold smell of breeze running through the tunnels
The sun coming up leaving rays of warmth
The streets glowing in golden reflexes
The sky is clear and I recognise the city
As I've seen it many times
But it never fails to surprise me
Here my days are new as the sun rays
Everyone says the sun rays are exceptions
But there they are waking me up every morning
Rain or dry
Through the window on the ceiling of a shared house in Turnpike Lane
Strangers with strange stories walk around me
I wish I could just talk to anyone anytime
Everybody has a story to tell, that's right
This city tells them all.
From the fights of Latin american people to the beats of Jamaican music
From the heartbroken to the uplifting forever-young souls
I wish I wouldn't hurt you with my lack of consistency
It's just there's so many things to see I can't seem to focus
So when I'm far I miss it
And when I'm here I endure it
Everything is different
But the smell of MY house
MY house for just a while but MY house after all
I saw the stars from the plane this time
Behind me, a father talked in spanish to her english-speaking daughter
He was Argentinian, from Cordoba for sure
When did we become so boundless?
I wonder if I'd stay here forever
Could I take the nostalgia for my own land?
Could I cope with the rhythm of this upbeat world?
Would you still make me coffee every morning?