I’m in a golden temple, in a bombed out street, feel the rough and tumble down where the borders meet. I hear a sandstorm falling down where the tears have dried and there’s a west wind calling, but I get no reply.
And I kiss the ground, I kiss the ground, nothing around.
There is no hidden karma, there is no sacred plight, there is no special armour to take me through the night.
I kiss the ground, I kiss the ground, nothing around,
I kiss the ground. I kiss the ground, nothing around.
Into the space between us, into the words that say that every law demeans us then every price you pay.
There is no hidden karma, there is no sacred plight, there is no special armour to take me through the night.
I kiss the ground, I kiss the ground, nothing around,
I kiss the ground. I kiss the ground, I kiss the ground, nothing around,
I kiss the ground.
There is no manna-mania, there is no banquet here, there is only ghettoes.