Magdalena

Please don't tell me I can't make it
It aint gonna do me any good
And please don't offer me your modern method
By fixing the carpets out of wood

From long alleys to Magdalena
There are 60 miles of sacred road
And the promise is made to those who venture
San Francisco lift your load

In the land of old Sonora
A shallow river valley cries
The summer left her without forgiveness
It's mirrored in her children's eyes

(...) sons and wayward daughters
Carry mandalas that they made
He delivered from the debts of darkness
And born again by candlelight
And born again my candlelight

Blisters on my feet
Wooden rosary
A (...) in my pocket as I ran