I might as well set off to Madrid now
And have a shock for a while
A train is setting off to the front line
Packed a luggage way too heavy for my back
A train is setting off to the wild side
These books won't make me sneeze once they're packed
I might as well set off to the old house
All the memories disappearing through the cracks
The giants are windmills but I sometimes forget
The ground is too dry here and the air is too wet
I once was a child
I was bathed, combed and fed
Now hours are minutes
And these feelings are threats
Giants are windmills