He’s broken down, exhausted, his back in great pain
But his heart is resolved, inside’s thunder and rain.
And though his feet can’t carry the weight of his motion
He looks east and is merry for the promise ‘cross the ocean.
He dreams of Madrid and Seville, and the running of the Bulls
Pamplona, Barcelona, Andalusian music rugged and rural
And to see great Granada, and where guitars are born
And to play in the night, forever more.
He’s an American man, worked all his days
Proudly he stands, roughed up hands, hair faded and grey.
And with pride inside he plans a new day
His send off in glory to the great land of Spain.