There is a little tree growing inside my heart.
It's name is India.
I didn't even know the seed was planted.
I don't even know when it started to grow.
But as I begin the slow move back to Boston,
I can feel something tugging at my heart...
It's name is India.
A little tree can still have roots, and those roots are tugging at my soul.
Whether they will be strong enough to pull me back,
only God can really know.
It could be Banares.
It could be the love of the people.
A certain fondness you can have for only certain friends.
My heart aches for a place I have not yet left.
My heart aches even as I still breathe in its air.
My heart aches even as I am here.
Oh, India.
How you've captured my soul.
Oh, India.
How you've captured my spirit.
Oh, India.
How you've captured my imagination.
Ohhhhhhhh, India.
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