Weekend in Bombay
Bert Ostyn
The moment I stepped into the airport
Felt the heat everytime
The city's a world on its own , they say
Love it or leave it
But dissipate our beating
Heartbreak all the way to the horizon
Poverty is cussing to in his eyes
There's a pattern in this chaos, I can see
Do you know why the shadows always leave?
So the more I see, the more I understand
This ain't no culture shock individual development
A death room, a death field, to my contempt
And I'll still meet you
I'm a travelled man
A nature kills and it is loved
Like the sound of the horns of the taxis in Bombay
Get over here
A mutual errand noise polution
Life is just like that
They just don't get it
The more I see...
This ain't no culture...