
Date of issue: 21.03.2005
Song language: English
Opium Tea |
Here I sleep the morning through |
'Til the wail of the call to prayer awakes me And there ain’t nothing at all to do but rise and follow |
The day wherever it takes me I stand at the window and I look at the sea |
And I am what I am, and what will be will be I stand at the window and I look at the sea |
And I make me a pot of opium tea |
Down at the port I watch the boats come in Watch the boats come in can do something to you |
And the kids gather around with an outstretched hand |
And I toss them a diram or two |
Well, I wonder if my children are thinking of me Cause I am what I am, and what will be will be I wonder if my kids are thinking of me And I smile and I sip my opium tea |
At night the sea lashes the rust red ramparts |
And the shapes of hooded men who pass me And the moan of the wind laughs and laughs and laughs |
The strange luck that fate has cast me Well, the cats on the rampart sing merrily |
That he is what he is and what will be will be Yeah, the cats on the rampart sing merrily |
And I sit and I drink of my opium tea |
I’m a prisoner here, I can never go home |
There is nothing here to win or lose |
There are no choices needed to be made at all |
Not even the choice of having to choose |
Well, I’m a prisoner here, yes, but I’m also free |
Cause I am what I am and what will be will be |
I’m a prisoner here, yeah, but I’m also free |
And I smile and I sip my opium tea. |
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