I am sorry,Panjim or Mumbai,
But I live in town Arambol,
May be wine it is a friend of mine,
May be kite,or may be rock-n-roll.
A little kite into December sky,
But it would never,never let me die,
And it is seems to me,my brother,
It is seems to me,
It is the bird of paradise!
May be seven,may be soon or yet,
But I sit on Arambol sunset,
And I listen to Desember drums,
Magic people comes and comes,and comes!