
High Altitude Dream
After a long and difficult forty-hour journey hitchhiking from Lima, Julian arrived in La Paz. His journey took him through the desert plains of Nazca and the magnificent Lake Titicaca region. Exhausted, he was looking for a place to rest. It was on the outskirts of town, on a high-altitude farm, that he met a farming couple and their son, who offered him a glimpse into their simple yet powerful life. ******************************************* © Copyright (2025) ******************************************* Verse 1 High in the Andes, the great capital gleams, A world of wonders, born of ancient dreams. The Plaza Murillo shows its proud stance, A long history offering its true chance. I see old monuments where the people pause, Guided by strong and important local laws. Chorus Thin air starts to bite. Old tales hold true might. High peaks shine so bright. Guiding through the night. Verse 2 A grand old Basílica stands with solemn grace, Its deep importance in this sacred place. I walk through Witches' Market's old terrain, Feeling joyful, free from any pain. The air is filled with lively, rhythmic sound, Where peaceful simple rituals are found. Chorus Thin air starts to bite. Old tales hold true might. High peaks shine so bright. Guiding through the night. Verse 3 The grand Teleférico climbs to the sky, Where views amazing swiftly now fly. I see the great Valle de la Luna's grand ascent, A lunar landscape, heaven-sent. These strong local customs feel so truly fine, A special feeling, wonderfully divine. Chorus Thin air starts to bite. Old tales hold true might. High peaks shine so bright. Guiding through the night. Verse 4 A farming pair and their son smiled wide, Showing their farm where simple joys reside. We shared quick laughs and a simple warm dish, A kind welcome, better than any small wish. They spoke of their lives with proud regard, Building with me a true, strong loyal bond. Chorus Thin air starts to bite. Old tales hold true might. High peaks shine so bright. Guiding through the night. Thin air starts to bite. Old tales hold true might. High peaks shine so bright. Guiding through the night. Thin air starts to bite. Old tales hold true might. High peaks shine so bright. Guiding through the night.

