| Cairo, Cairo
|
| Cairo is my baby’s home
|
| See, women in Cairo, women in Cairo
|
| Sure don’t dance, they don’t dance alone
|
| I should have never lent you my 45
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| I guess my lesson is not to lend
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| There’s a big needle going over the line
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| And for a time you have a friend
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| But stone cold silence in the room means the record is at its end
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| You’re turning it over so many times
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| It’s never going back into its sleeve again
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| There’s two sides to every story
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| But it seems like you’ve got ten
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| When I get no letters, it’s the Cairo blues you send
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| Cairo, Cairo
|
| Cairo is my baby’s home
|
| See, women in Cairo, women in Cairo
|
| Sure don’t dance, they don’t dance alone
|
| Now I know that every time you get lonesome
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| You go and fill yourself to the brink
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| Find yourself a man in a suit and tie
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| Who’ll introduce you to what he drinks
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| He’s answering your questions funny now
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| So you’ll wonder how he thinks
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| He sees his reflection in your skin
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| You’re gonna see yours in the hotel sinks
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| Staring back, the Cairo blues it never blinks
|
| Cairo, Cairo
|
| Cairo is my baby’s home
|
| See, women in Cairo, women in Cairo
|
| Sure don’t dance, they don’t dance alone
|
| Now I’m looking at those thin winter trees
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| And they’re looking like railings for the sky
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| I got my bare hands in my coat pockets
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| And it’s so cold that I could cry
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| When I see that forest falling, all I hear is firewood
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| And it’s crackling louder than that record ever could
|
| But it don’t drown out those Cairo blues for good
|
| Cairo, Cairo
|
| Cairo is my baby’s home
|
| See, women in Cairo, in Cairo
|
| They don’t dance alone |