And I feel fine.

Do you need time, alone?

Days are measured by the sun.

Months by the moon

Years by the rings on the trees.

In Latin America being on time is a foreign concept.

I woke up this morning, my clock told me so.

If days were 30 hours long I would be much younger.

And die at a very young age.

But time, I need that time, alone.

Time marches on, with our without me.

Namaste