" There is no whisky in this town,
No pub, no club to sit me dowm. "
Useless prayers of a bewildered crowd,
Down by the Gange, I watch them drown.
I'm buried in Benares,
Waiting for the Monsoon.
I told you once, but I can tell you twice:
For a glass full of Red-eye, I could sell my hide.
I won't go to Benares,
Even if the sun shines.
Remember,
There is tricks,
Tricks to fill up a life,
Like empty words mixed with a bottle of wine,
And a girl, a girl just like you.
Entangled in a tune,
My words are sucked up into their shells.
The sound of broken glass
Reminds me their uselessness.
Enslaved souls in their funeral piles,
Down by the shore, I hear them cry.
I can't stay in Benares
Cause I don't have a dream
To realize
To realize
Remember,
There is tricks
To fill up a whole long life,
Like empty words mixed with a handfull of rice,
And a girl, a girl
Just like you.
Oh give me a girl
Just like you,
A simple girl
All dressed like you,
And eyes of blue.
I call your name,
There is no telephone.
I scream myself hoarse,
Waiting for the Monsoon,
And no telephone.
Well I call your name hoarse
In the sweltering heat.
I scream myself hoarse
But there is no telephone.