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We've been here long enough
In all this filth and dust
And all this dirt and degradation
The squalor and the heat (a superficial state)
The beggars in the street (accepting what is fate)
And so uncivilized
I simply can't believe my eyes

Why is there such a fuss?
Why is there such a rush
With all this mystery around us?
I suspect you must be a man without feeling
Always on the move, always passing
The beggars in the street
The squalor and the heat
Because you're only passing through

I feel so moved by what I see
I feel a light inside of me
I feel a sudden revelation
Is it the sun, is it the heat?
I feel I'm waking from a sleep
The blood that's flowing through my veins
Reacts to some great ugly[?] change
And now when we leave India
Our world will never be the same

After this, life would have found a new meaning
Something wondrous, something new
Instead of merely passing
The beggars in the street (a superficial state)
The poverty and heat (accepting what is fate)
Because you're only passing through

The beggars in the street
The squalor and the heat
Nothing's affecting you
Because we're only passing through

I suspect you only look without seeing
Which is convenient to do
When you're only passing
The beggars in the street (the beggars in the street)
The squalor and the heat (the squalor and the heat)
Because you're only passing through

Always such a fuss
Always in a rush
With all this mystery around us
For I suspect you must be a man without feeling
Always on the move and always passing
The beggars in the street
The squalor and the heat
Because you're only passing through

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