| Well here she comes through the trees
|
| In her saffron robes and dangling beads
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| She’s a special child, touching the Holy Sea
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| Where White no longer is pure
|
| And Red, the colour of the cure
|
| In San Francisco she lights a flame
|
| And in Brazilian bars they chant his name
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| She’s a special child who’s playing the Godfind game
|
| Where White no longer is pure
|
| And Red, the colour of the cure
|
| They’re taking your name away
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| I don’t want your guru
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| I don’t need your paradise
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| I love you for what you are
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| Perfection’s not mine
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| No more family, no more friends
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| No expectations now, no bitter ends
|
| For she’s a special child, with a castle she must defend
|
| Where White no longer is pure
|
| And Red, the colour of the cure
|
| They’re taking your name away
|
| Well, it’s over now, I think I know
|
| We tried to work it out, someone let go
|
| I’ve got a special place, your bridge to the outside world
|
| Where White no longer is pure
|
| And Red, the colour of the cure
|
| They’ve taken your name away |