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