The sunset paints the sky
Behind jagged mountains
Every evening
And every evening
Just like the people of Ysleta
Just like the people of El Paso
Just like the people of Las Cruces
And just like the people of Juarez
I will see it
But the truth is, I guess I don't know these people. And I just don't want to see it anymore.
I have to get out of here.
Maybe if someone were listening in on my thoughts they would have expected a little more nostalgia or wistfulness, but it's just not there. I don't feel it. Really.
