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letra de a day in lana lane - joshua morata

[intro]
check one two
check one two, two, one
yuh, uh, yeah
yo, i gotta see if the audio-, well it’s actually pretty synced up actually
cause i don’t know we could probably check that out or something
yeah, i don’t know though sometimes i like doing whatever the f-ck i want so i have no idea

[verse 1]
i was approached by a poet, he told me he was homeless
he asked me if i had a dollar and if i could spare a moment
“walk with me” he said “let me show you something
i wanna see if you can take a canvas and leave it as nothing”
i couldn’t find a single wall that was empty, all i saw were murals
painted only with spray, and he’d say, that this is the place
this is the safe haven where the lost souls come to play
i looked around the block, colors going miles
i took another look at him and said that i should stay a while
i never thought he was wasting my time
but instead gave me a reason to open my eyes
we toured around, telling me the story of each piece
there i knew i found my sanctuary for my peace
and in the blink of an eye, the poet suddenly vanished
thinking i was feeling tired or if i was feeling famished
i asked myself if i was going insane, then i realized it’s just another day in lana lane

[verse 2]
home-bound, route 11, took the bus back home
thinking back to the words that the poet once spoke
saying i could be a better man than he
all i gotta do is keep my mind set free
sitting in my room, writing down my thoughts
wishing i could meet the poet once again thanking him for, helping me find my only place for peace
though not a lot of gr-ss or a sp-ce for trees
i went back to the place where we first met
and there he was sitting on the swing set
we walked around again, thinking like i met an old friend
and he told me that he didn’t this day to end
whenever i arrived, the clouds begin to fade
the sun begins to shine, and the sadness goes away
i was confused enough over his philosophies
now i wanted answers as to why he would tell me these things
we stopped in front of a mural of a woman with long black hair, face full of youth, looking so fair
he reached for my shoulder and said:
“my son, this is where your happiness has been
this is the place for your poems and songs
believe me when i say, that you’ve been here all along”
the wind was blowing fast and the breeze cold and heavy
i blinked for a split second and…
once again, the poet disappeared

- joshua morata

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