She never leaves the block,
kids are too young and their mother is too old,
and there's everything here anyway,
has everything here anyway.
She never complains or just nobody heard her,
wishing loud that she could leave
to the place down the freeway down there,
some place pass the freeway down there.
Is that wisdom? Or is it fear?
Well no one really knows...
But those who got close enough to her,
saw she collects postcards
from around the world...
There is a beach full of palm trees
next to the Eiffel Tower of gay Paris,
there're Manuel's eyes and a Rita smile
and a big celeb that has no name.
She likes the blue ones best, deep as the sea
and high as the sky,
cause that's where he'll come from one day to pick her up
and take her away...
far away... from everything...
Is that wisdom? Or is it fear?
Well, no one really knows...
But those who got close enough to her
saw she collects postcards
from around the world...
She hangs them everywhere, they are all over the house
like little windows to watch all around the world...
all around the world...
