Yo! Our holidays started in Senegal
Then we decided to go to Bopal in India
Yo! What a long road ahead of us with our backpacks
But when we got to India we said: what a gift!
Excellent we can make snakes dance
How she can make the Elephants of Ceylon run
When she commes along everybody loves her
Even the dogs turn their heads to look at her whether they’re named Droopy or Pit
Wep my love, do you know Pondichéry
She told me “I am from there so stop hoaxing me”
It’s strange; she’s got the karma of an angel
The stake: To tell her that I love her at the banks of Ghanges
Public Enemy Nr 700
But I have to get in line the Indian style and that’s tiresome to me
Call on the diva Shiva, she’s got her hands full
Red on her forehead, I’m not talking to you about about Karma
Move your body
In the country of Ghandi
Move your body
Like in any other country
In the evening we get to the club on the back of an elephant
Harem pants, hat like a Sikh always elegant
The gold on your chest makes chling-chling
Or the kling-kling is bling-bling
We left Candy for the country of Ghandi
With my bandits from Bondy we drink Brandy
We throw our hands in the air the crew is getting bigger
We are at the Taj Mahal where our serpent got bigger
How one says company is good to raise the spirits
Know that this smells like escence and sandalwood
And from Hollywood to Bollywood you can notice very good
Everybody’s got their hands in the air and nobody’s sulking
Move your body
In the country of Ghandi
Move your body
Like in any other country
Everybody’s got their hands in the air and nobody’s sulking
Ey yo! India, Nirvana, Himmalaya
Goa, the flares at the beach
Advanced studies of the Karma Sutra
Banghra from Katmandou to Sumatra
The style is orginal, the cow is their animal
You walk without a sidewalk in your pair of sandals
If you want to cause a scandal for ten roupies or two bucks
Don’t bolt, leave peacefully Mahatma Style
That’s for India Pakistan Bangladesh Sri Lanka
Sikh Tamoul Indou to Inca style
It takes a lot of love, a lot of mischief
This’s the country of Ghandi
Move your body
In the country of Ghandi
Move your body
Like in any other country
Everybody’s got their hands in the air and nobody’s sulking