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 Falluja, 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.