| My sisters and i
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| Have this wish before we die
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| And it may sound strange
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| As if our minds are deranged
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| Please don’t ask us why
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| Beneath the sheltering sky
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| We have this strange obsession
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| You have the means in your possession
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| We want our tea in the sahara with you
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| The young man agreed
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| He would satisfy their need
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| So they danced for his pleasure
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| With a joy you could not measure
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| They would wait for him here
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| The same place every year
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| Beneath the sheltering sky
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| Across the desert he would fly
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| The sky turned to black
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| Would he ever come back?
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| They would climb a high dune
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| They would pray to the moon
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| But he’d never return
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| So the sisters would burn
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| As their eyes searched the land
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| With their cups full of sand |