[male
vocals] (
Slow,
melancholic
acoustic
guitar
picking) (
Soft
wind
sounds,
distant
city
street
ambiance)
The
rain
hits
the
tin
roof
of
our
small
home
in
the
hills,
I
was
just
a
boy
then,
counting
shadows
on
the
sills.
You
packed
your
bags
in
silence,
with
the
morning
mist
so
grey,
You
chose
a
different
road,
and
you
walked
the
other
way.
The
mountains
of
Costa
Rica
watched
the
life
they
took
from
me,
A
hollow
in
the
kitchen
where
a
mother
used
to
be.
I
grew
up
in
the
bustle,
learned
to
hustle
just
to
breathe,
Tracing
ghosts
of
promises
you
never
meant
to
leave.
Oh,
the
city
lights
are
burning,
but
they
don't
light
up
the
dark,
I’
m
chasing
down
a
memory,
but
I
cannot
find
the
spark.
Momma,
did
the
horizon
call
your
name
louder
than
your
son?
I’
m
running
through
the
decades,
but
the
race
is
never
won.
Just
an
echo
in
the
valley,
just
a
shadow
in
the
street,
Fighting
for
a
future
that
is
bitter
and
so
sweet.
I
spent
my
teenage
winters
working
hard
to
pay
the
rent,
Wondering
where
the
kindness
and
the
maternal
love
all
went.
I
see
you
in
the
strangers,
in
the
faces
in
the
square,
I
look
for
silver
linings
but
I
find
they’
re
never
there.
The
hustle
is
a
armor,
a
shield
against
the
pain,
But
it
doesn't
stop
the
longing
when
I’
m
standing
in
the
rain.
I
build
these
little
empires,
stack
my
bricks
up
one
by
one,
But
it’
s
hard
to
find
the
glory
when
you’
re
standing
all
alone.
Oh,
the
city
lights
are
burning,
but
they
don't
light
up
the
dark,
I’
m
chasing
down
a
memory,
but
I
cannot
find
the
spark.
Momma,
did
the
horizon
call
your
name
louder
than
your
son?
I’
m
running
through
the
decades,
but
the
race
is
never
won.
Just
an
echo
in
the
valley,
just
a
shadow
in
the
street,
Fighting
for
a
future
that
is
bitter
and
so
sweet.
They
tell
me
life
is
politics,
a
game
of
give
and
take,
But
they
never
mention
hearts
that
slowly
begin
to
break.
I’
m
a
man
of
quiet
courage,
standing
on
this
rocky
ground,
Waiting
for
a
letter,
or
a
long-lost,
hollow
sound.
If
the
mountains
could
speak,
would
they
tell
me
where
you
are?
Or
are
you
just
a
fading,
distant,
unreachable
star?
So
I
continue
grinding,
with
the
dust
upon
my
skin,
Trying
to
forget
the
state
the
world
is
really
in.
You
left
a
hole
in
history
that
no
progress
could
repair,
But
I’
m
still
standing
steady,
breathing
in
this
mountain
air.
I
forgive
the
desertion,
I
forgive
the
lonely
night,
Even
if
the
ending
isn't
bathed
in
golden
light.
The
hustle
is
the
legacy
you
left
behind
for
me,
A
heart
that
learned
to
struggle,
and
a
soul
that’
s
almost
free.
Oh,
the
city
lights
are
burning,
but
they
don't
light
up
the
dark,
I’
m
chasing
down
a
memory,
but
I
cannot
find
the
spark.
Momma,
did
the
horizon
call
your
name
louder
than
your
son?
I’
m
running
through
the
decades,
but
the
race
is
never
won.
Just
an
echo
in
the
valley,
just
a
shadow
in
the
street,
Fighting
for
a
future
that
is
bitter
and
so
sweet. (
Acoustic
guitar
fades
slowly)
Yeah,
just
a
shadow
in
the
street.
Still
hustling
for
you,
momma.
Still
here. (
Fade
to
silence)