Flew onto a plateau

There’s a city ‘pon a city

Couldn’t take the overload

But I was sitting pretty

Got to get the travel mode

Those hotel days were lonely

Coughing with the altitude

But I’m digging painted poetry

Digging those walls allegorically

Made for Teotihuacan for angles on historically

Where I sat my ignorant ass,

Where my toes tread

In the streets of the dead

Where the waking dead walk

Oohing and ahhing

Another must chalked

But when they go home they’ll miss

What they sought

Smiled at from the pyramid tops

By Tlaloc from where he send his rain drops

And the paisaje cools when it hits six o’clock…