Where Is Paradise - Ivano Fossati

Caravans of stolen idols cross

desert fire and mountains white with frost

dromedaries thirsty almost dumbling with fatigue

searching for the man whose eyes are brimming with the sun.

Magic man is standing at the door

dreaming of good days before the long bore

picking off the bright wings of a bee held in his hands

wishing he could still believe in good days yet to come.

Oh where is paradise?

I need me there

where’s the road to paradise?

Broken are the altars of the kings

chop them up to useful better things now

ticket taker escaping of the pilgrims from the gate

nailing in the harvest crate you feel the joy and pain.

Oh where is paradise?

I need me there.

where’s the road to paradise?

where, oh where is paradise?

Oh, I need me there

where’s the road to paradise?

where, oh where is paradise

I need me there

where’s the road to paradise?