Puerto Villarta
I smell the ocean and fresh fish in the fog
I hear the surf crash on the rocks and birds chirping in the swaying trees
I can taste the fresh carne asada in the wind next to the burning fire near the old mans house
I walk slowly down the dusty road and sip Horchata from a foam cup
It’s almost time for siesta and I climb in my hammock for a short nap
The kids are running bye with a old can on the ground pretending to play soccer
My eyes are getting sleepy as I close my eyes and fade to black
Adios
Yo welo la playa y el pescado y la brisa
Escucho surfriar el chocar en las rocas y pajaros cantando en la movinedos los arborles
Probar mi carne asada en el viento junto a la lenna que mando se fuego junto a la casa de los bejitos
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