As I sit down by the sea,
wondering what will I be?
Looking at the blue sky above,
wondering what will I see?
I move my vision and I face the land,
looking at my home-town land.
The land of my beloved country,
but I wonder what can I see ?
There’s so much thefts and so much killing,
so much corruption on the street.
So much drugs and so much smuggling
and not much love and peace on the street.
And as I observe I start to cry,
Mother India, you’re going to die.
Then as I break my sympathetic observing,
and soon my guitar starts strumming.
And mother India, I look up to thee
and say - One day, there’s something I’ll see.