India

                                                            India

                              Deep in a religious pool of belief and culture
                              Lost in a swarm of perfumes and sticky heat
                        In love with India, the mystic woman of your dreams

                    She has smacked you in the face and punched you in the guts
                        She has beat you up and made you come back for more
                          Her poignant beauty steals the love out of your heart
                                                  And warms you up
    She has left you drenched in a monsoon of flowers and jewels and white beaches

                                                She gets little sleep
                                      But her love is golden and abundant
                                    Her sunken treasure, deep and binding
                                            Bells and petals at her feet
                      With swirls of emerald, pink, blue, devil red and orange saris
                                            Diamonds and yellow gold
                                    Silk jet black caught in a glistening ray
                  All entwined in a hazy bazaar of sandalwood smoke and music
                                      India, India, the jewel of her own eye

                                            You are high on her Kashmir
                        You have smoked the Chillum of India and now you are hers
                                                    Her spirit is free
                        A butterfly that always escapes the net of a prying captivator
                                And you are mystified by the mysticism of India.