I watch as Boeing meets building, twin towers reduced to rubble,

And see the hatred in their hearts, they call me to Jihad;

"Allah calls upon you, Child of the East,

Come shed the blood of Infidels, our martyr, semtex-clad!"

I see a nation ripped asunder, the Arab people blown apart,

By the bombs of truth and justice, freedom's flag unfurled;

"Liberty calls upon you, Child of the West,

Come kill for democracy, let oil drown the world!"

And while both sides hold their heroes, their honoured fallen dead,

I play piggy in the middle, as the bombs fly overhead.

Upon what battlefield can it be, that civilisations clash?

Not Washington or Fallujah, nor New York or Baghdad;

But the blood within my body, there a war is fought,

Come East, come West, my heart hangs heavy, for a world turned mad.

And I shout from the highest rooftops, to the streets of London town,

For with their bitter hatreds, both sides have it wrong;

But when they will not listen, to a call for peace and change,

What for the blood within me, where do I belong?

Now nothing is black, nothing is white, all runs, it seems, to red,

While I play piggy in the middle, as the bombs fly overhead,

Just a Paki in the middle, as my people's blood is shed.