The valleys of Tomé

Every morning, when he's awake
A taste of, of iron
No laughter, no laughter
A taste of iron in his mouth

The smell of mold
From concrete walls
No laughter inside the walls

Every morning, when he's awake
A taste of, of iron
No laughter, no laughter
A taste of iron in his mouth

All he want
Is her a new pair of shoes
To seal her skin on
On her lonely walk in the valleys of Tomé
On her lonely walk in the valleys of Tomé