Losing a job is hurting: you don't skip down to the job centre with a song in your heart, delighted at the prospect of doubling your income from the generous state.
There's a magical isle up the river of Time, Where the softest of airs are playing; There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime, And a song as sweet as a vesper chime, And the Junes with the roses are staying.
As usual, Mariachi Plaza was full of musicians strolling around, waiting for their chance to serenade a couple or a family with a love song or a classic corrido.