First we lived in IndiaIn winter it rains there everydayWe were younger thenWe were children in IndiaThere were signs and peopleWeâd never understandYou said âHold my handâAnd I held your handThere is one of meAnd one of youTwo of usAnd one hundred questionsAnd two thousand reasonsBut tenâs a perfect numberWe are twenty thousand hearts full of hungerTwenty thousand heartsThen weâre dancing in GenevaItâs New Yearâs EveAnd all the Americans were thereThey said, âItâs still last year in New York City.âYou said, âNew York, where?âI said, âNew York City, its three thousand miles away.âYou said, âWhatâs a mile?âI said, âItâs far away.âThere is one of meAnd one of youTwo of usAnd one hundred questionsAnd two thousand reasonsBut tenâs a perfect numberWe are twenty thousand hearts full of hungerTwenty thousand heartsNow you ask me to explain myselfAnd I tell you I need distanceYou say, âTo hell with distance, remember who youâre talking to.âI say, âCloseness is too much for me.âAnd dismiss you with a smileYou say, âWish away your closeness, and imagine itâs a mile.âThere is one of meAnd one of youTwo of usAnd one hundred questionsAnd two thousand reasonsBut tenâs a perfect numberWe are twenty thousand hearts full of hungerTwenty thousand heartsTwenty thousand hearts full of hungerTwenty thousand hearts