Well I can't pick the roses that grow in your eyes
But I can hear music it comes from your mind,
And I won't lay a hand on that mask youre behind cause
Its made of your bones its the perfect disguise
You carry it with you wherever you go
As you follow the signs on life's perilous road
They say "this is a maze, youre soon to escape
To your fate, your destiny what you create"
and all of the while i cant help but smile
at the beautiful music that comes from your mind
and im glad you could find what you call paradise
cause i wouldnt disturb such a perfect disguise
no i cant pick the roses that grow in your eyes
cant eat from the garden that grows in your thighs
so ill starve and ill steal and ill wonder whats real
when it comes to the hollow illusions i feel
no i cant pick the roses that hrow in your eyes
but i can hear music it comes from your mind
and i wont lay a hand on that mask youre behind
cause its made from your bones,
its the perfect disguise
A vibrant vision of "Central Americana" from the Costa Rica-based artist, blending heartland devotionals with playful Tropicália grooves. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 27, 2022