The wild woman called Luna Belocionado
My lips quiver to speak of her too plainly
For she’d been born under a white shadow
And she’d laughed at the mountain vainly.
It was said as she grew older that she knew
The ways and words of the wolves and stars
She could speak to the forest and listen too
She’d played and broken bout twelve guitars.
In the nights she’d dance with wicked souls
And then she’d ride those mountain ridges
Tonight she climbs and then down she rolls
Oh she sings about the crossing of bridges!
Her voice is the melody of a meteor shower,
In her voice I seek my cosy bower,
To fall asleep tonight.