The world is wide and vast
The horizon stretching fast
And the longer that the sun would shine
The heat would blast this skin of mine
Faces floating in large crowds
And the strangeness of strangers lurks
Under every stare and word
Every sentence that would work
Places distant, a mirage
In a city desert-born
Clouds stretched out and looking torn
An illusion or it's rightful visage
I am ignorant of this
And of more in these four weeks
What I carry back, I'll miss
Leave behind all that I taste
What is broken, fell to pieces
Stronger, weaker than this place