I have often regarded creativity as the domain of the soul
There doesn't seem to be a direct route to it
But rather it's like an ongoing, lifelong exploration of the material and the spiritual
And I think Lost Souls is about one of those kinds of explorations
It falls, the light, by your side
And flows into a sea of lost dreams
The ocean opens its arms to lost souls
And toils the night, so it seems
And who can recall the lost faith in her
The imagery of Spanish guitars in night plazas (the distant look in your eyes)
Has its origins in some of my earliest travels to Spain (Spanish guitars and night plazas)
Somewhere, I think, in the early 1980s (in a park, you can hear lovers cry)
In particular, I remember walking out on the streets in Granada
Taking in a central aesthetic of jasmine courtyards and plazas
And the particular heritage of Moorish as well as Spanish influences
And I remember attending a club of flamenco guitar playing and dancing
And then eating very late
And heading home while life was still vibrant on the streets
