[Instrumental Intro] [Verse] By the clear and shining side of an enchanted figure’s grace, time itself has slowed its pace on an old youth filled with pride. With his steady gaze and stride, full of fixes, patched with care, there appears beyond, out there, a small town in colors bright, [Pre-Chorus] like a baby fast asleep guarded softly by the years. [Chorus] On a carved and rugged stone stands the town so firm and strong, fresh bread scents the air all day long, and on Sundays—mass is known. On a carved and rugged stone, in their shirtsleeves, standing proud, stands the town above the crowd, with its all and with its none. [Verse] It remains there, safely bound, with its back turned to what’s new, fresh breeze and the purest blue keep the drifting time around. Little here has truly changed, maybe just the passing days in their calm and quiet ways. [Pre-Chorus] At its feet so tenderly, water washes memory— past and present intertwined. [Chorus] On a carved and rugged stone stands the town so firm and strong, fresh bread scents the air all day long, and on Sundays—mass is known. On a carved and rugged stone, in their shirtsleeves, standing proud, stands the town above the crowd, with its all and with its none. [Verse] There it lives with winter’s chill, there it lives beneath the sun, all becomes a shining one in the river’s mirrored thrill. Not a single space lies still in that picture, tall and fair, drawn upright with gentle care. [Bridge] Miravet rests in silent light, hiding bare and fragile sight with its walls of painted white. [Instrumental] [Final Chorus] On a carved and rugged stone stands the town so firm and strong, fresh bread scents the air all day long, and on Sundays—mass is known. On a carved and rugged stone, in their shirtsleeves, standing proud, stands the town above the crowd, with its all and with its none.
