Jerusalem.

I don't know where to go
I barely know where I'm coming from, mm
I never met my grandfather, from whom I got my name
But the marquee letters spell "Zaidi" all the same
He was born before partition, in a town called Ajmer
Militias stormed his school, so the family fled to Pakistan
And me, I've never been there, I don't know what it smells like
And when I say his name out loud, I can't pronounce it right

Sometimes I feel like Jerusalem
There's 3 religions trickling through my veins
Sometimes I feel like Jerusalem
By the time they can sort it out, there'll be nothing left to claim

Ooh, ooh, Manzur can you hear me?
Ooh, ooh, ooh, I'm speaking through the breeze

My father went to Tuesday school
His teacher there had numbers on his arm
The day I took my mother's name, he called me on the phone
A chill was in your voice as if the words had turned to snow
And I don't wanna do this excavation anymore
I'm stepping into salt & sand, whichever way I go

Sometimes I feel like Jerusalem
There's 3 divisions clawing at my name
Sometimes I feel like Jerusalem
By the time you can sort it out, there'll be nothing left to claim

Ooh, ooh, Father, can you forgive me?
Ooh, ooh, ooh, I'm speaking through the breeze

The census form came in the mail
I always hated filling out these things
There's no word for what I am, so I'll turn the letters loose
I'll snap in half the hyphens, tear the terms out at the root
Being mixed is a mixed blessing, in a world that makes you choose
The more history you have, the more you have to lose

Sometimes I feel like Jerusalem
There's 3 traditions tugging at my sleeve
Sometimes I feel like Jerusalem
By the time I can sort it out, there'll be nothing left of me

Ooh, ooh, America can you see me?
Ooh, ooh, ooh, I'm speaking to the breeze