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About Kyoto

Now, don’t go thinkin’ I’m all high ‘n mighty—I’m just a gal who sings bout heartache and rhinestones. But watchin’ her dodge the cops, I’m surprised how slick she is. Moves like a shadow, quiet-like. Reminds me of them *Moolaadé* women hidin’ from the elders—only she’s duckin’ blue lights, not traditions. I ask, “Ain’t ya scared?” She shrugs, says, “Fear’s a luxry I can’t afford.” Oof, that hit me harder’n a truck full o’ banjos.

Despite fines, street sex trade continues in Madrid suburb

Then, bam! I see this street performer on Nakayama Street. Dude’s shreddin’ on a guitar like he’s possessed. I stop, totally mesmerized. I mean, I thought I was good, but this guy? He’s on another level. I’m like, “C’mon, man! Give me a break!” But I’m also clappin’ and lovin’ it.

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