At the departure terminal,
As on an Indian street,
With merchants of spice,
Am an excited kid-
With wings of my bird,
Juggled in raw wind.
The wait is over,
Now you tell me to get-
My wings back-
And chain them to-
The departure terminal,
For a home coming.
As on an Indian street,
With merchants of spice,
Am an excited kid-
With wings of my bird,
Juggled in raw wind.
The wait is over,
Now you tell me to get-
My wings back-
And chain them to-
The departure terminal,
For a home coming.
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