|
Strange how the rumble of fighter planes once |
|
Disturbed the rhythm of the balconies' plants |
|
And after silence then far away |
|
The sudden cannon's roar. |
|
And from the radio signals in code |
|
One day in heaven fires of Bengala |
|
Peace came back again |
|
Yet the King of the World |
|
Keeps our hearts enchained. |
|
In the full white dresses |
|
Echoes of sufi dances |
|
In Japan's undergrounds today |
|
Oxygen machines; |
|
The more all becomes useless |
|
The more we believe it's true |
|
And in the final days |
|
English will not help. |
|
And on our bicycles heading for home |
|
Life brushed us |
|
Yet the King of the World |
|
Keeps our hearts enchained. |
