Kashmir (克什米尔) - Paul Dianno/Bruce Dickinson

Oh let the sun beat down upon my face

Stars to fill my dreams

I am a traveler of both time and space

To be where I have been

Secret elders of the gentle race

This world is seldom seen

They talk of days for which they sit and wait

All will be revealed

Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace

Whose sounds caress my ear

But not a word I heard could I relate

The story was quite clear

Woah woah

All I see

Turns to brown

As the sun burns the ground

And my eyes fill with sand

As I scan this wasted land

Trying to find

Trying to find where I been

All I see

Turns to brown

As the sun burns the ground

And my eyes fill with sand

As I scan this wasted land

Trying to find

Trying to find just where I been

I'm out can when we sing

Oh pilot of the storm who leaves no trace

Like thoughts inside a dream

Heed the path that led me to that place

Yellow desert screen

My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon

I will return again

Sure as the dust that floats high in June

When movin' through Kashmir

Oh father of the four winds Fill my sails

Across the sea of years

With no provision but an open face

'Long the straits of fear

Turns to brown

As the sun burns the ground

And my eyes fill with sand

As I scan this wasted land

Trying to find

Trying to find where I've been

All I see turns to brown

As the sun burns the ground

And my eyes fill with sand

As I scan this wasted land

Trying to find

Trying to find where I've been