This is the second part of the text, if you see some mistake, I would appreciate that you tell me, thank you :)
You can be hidden in the high looking for the Granada’s Soul at the black skyline, but then it would be deep in your heart, oh you little nicest dreamiest British girl, who waits for the snow, who prays for the snow, we could fall in the dark looking for the Granada’s Soul. It could be waiting for us in the heart of the poor artists who die watered in the puddles of its streets, thinking about the pasts that they never had. Oh you little, little Brunette girl, British, but from Nowhere, I have been in the search too, but I didn’t see anything except a wide emptiness, all that I know is that the alcohol is like the Pandora’s box, but I know nothing about the Granada’s Soul.