David Bridie
stoned in kabul
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Is that your god Smacking heads on trade routes
Smacking heads on Persian ground
dervishes come swirling in, round and round
there are Hollow men hiding mongst the rubble parks & caves
the Red Cross issue fits and tin foil
in a blue smoke haze
thereâs no light, no sun, no trees, but then
this is how it feels just like youâre Stoned in Kabul
Enter inside your neighbours mind
And suffer him to know your self
When Kustom conflicts with trucks and guns and mules and holiness
Like youâre Stoned in Kabul