“Spiti Blues” by Jared Ammon
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Eight hour rides on a coarse and windy road
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I look outside and rivers lie way down below
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I close my eyes and feel the dust dive down my throat
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At least for now the snot has stopped dripping down my nose
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Bedridden, the tissues are amounting
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Good thing the clouds don’t cover the mountains
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Soon I hope the arid elderly peaks
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are all that I’m surmounting
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We stop at Kibber, fourteen thousand feet in the air
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I take a walk, gazing at the white stone abodes
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The cows are munching and the sheep dogs blare
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On the rooftops, piles of hay are stowed
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Although my sickness persists
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The journey through Spiti Valley will assist
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Resilience, everywhere it exists
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Although my sickness persists
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The journey through Spiti Valley will assist
CM7 AM7 F#M AM7 DM, GM7, AM7, DM, GM7, AM7, DM
Resilience, everywhere it exists
This song highlights my experience of our week-long pilgrimage to Spiti Valley, a cold and arid valley located near the Northeast border between India and Tibet. Towards the beginning of the trip, I fell ill with a cold. As I was constantly coughing, I struggled at times to enjoy the village and monastery excursions. However, brief moments of delight reassured that my sickness was only temporary.