The River of Life used to flow right through my front yard,
And the pilgrims came in droves, so I had to hire a guard.
I put up a tall fence, and had the windows barred.

I see now that of those who needed it, I was the first.
Now I´m trying to remember what it´s like to not feel thirst.
The River of Life used to flow right by my front door,
And people drank those waters, and I thought that they were poor,
Until one morning I woke up all parched down to my core.

They took me to the hospital, and sure enough, that made it worse.
Now I´m trying to remember what it´s like to not feel thirst.

You can have my mansion, cause now I live in an iron lung.
You can keep it all. Just put a drop of water on my tongue.

The River of Life used to flow inside my gate,
And the sick came from far and wide to be healed of their state.
I thought I´d try it someday, but I said that that can wait.
Now they won’t give me water; they say my innards would burst,
And I´m trying to remember what it´s like to not feel thirst.

I saw leprous men submerged, and come out healed of their disease,
A blind man washed his eyes out, and from that moment on he sees,
And you’d think there’d be a cure for when your entrails freeze.
Now I´m tormented by a doctor, and I’m tormented by a nurse,
And I´m trying to remember what it´s like to not feel thirst.

Take my mountains of gold, it might as well be a heap of dung.
You can keep it all, just put a drop of water on my tongue.