Frances Quinlan
Postcard from Spain
[Verse 1]
Buffy Sainte-Marie plays
Here and there pale Valencia oranges—I just got it
This must be the place
Origin signifies a name and that’s it
Simple, I like it
We’re late to our little apartment

[Pre-Chorus 1]
It’s not you I’m angry with
How close from here do you think the ocean is?
Overhead, a bright white page

[Chorus]
A thought half forms
I’ve pined so long for—
The name escapes
A few more years, and then
The weight will be replaced
Can you hear that old man running?
He won’t make it back

[Verse 2]
Walled in by cypresses
The next three years are coming
Simple, a name escapes
[Bridge]
What is his pain like?
He thinks about it enough on his own time
What is his pain like?
He thinks about it enough on his own time
The next few years are coming
Did you see an old man running?
The next few years are coming
Overhead, a bright white page

[Chorus]
A thought half forms
I’ve pined so long for—
The name escapes
A few more years, and then
The weight will be replaced
Can you hear that old man running?
He won’t make it back

[Outro]
Can you hear that old man running?
He won’t make it back
Can you hear that old man running?
Buffy Sainte-Marie plays
Can you hear that old man running?
Overhead, a bright white page
Buffy Sainte-Marie plays