Lletres: Jon Swift. I Come From the Hills.

I come from the hills to the city.
I don't turn my head to see things pass.
I spend many days on the corner
Like a rock in a rushing river's path.
I come from the hills.

I'm looking at you like a farmer.
You keep looking at me like I'm going to change.
There's things to be done on my side
Behind those expectations on your face.
I come from the hills.

I wake up on cue every morning.
And I do the same every night.
But I'm best when I'm walking down the back roads
With no destination in sight.
I come from the hills.

I make my few dollars with blank eyes.
Get out on weekends if I can.
It may seem I gave everything
But I still got the hills 'neath my skin.
I come from the hills.