| Oh my, my, my-
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| In a dusty caravan
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| Was a girl with a golden tan
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| And she asked me if I was headed to the east
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| I politely stepped a side and said I did not need a ride
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| That I’d rather take my chances with the heat
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| Well, when she turned and walked away
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| I saw my big mistake
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| There were jewels on her body oh-so-rare
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| Had it been another day I just might have rode away
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| With that woman riding off to God-knows-where
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| So the years they came and went
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| And found me living in a tent
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| Far above a little marble stream
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| And it may have been the light that shone out through the night
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| That attracted the hand scratching on my screen
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| When I cautiously looked out through the night
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| There was no doubt
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| That the owner of that hand was that girl
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| So I bid her do come in
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| And I’ll open up a tin
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| If you’ll tell me 'bout your trip around the world
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| Well, she said,"If you think back
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| To the first time that we passed
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| I’m sure you’ll picture me in all my jewels
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| It was shortly after then that I ran into another man
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| And I asked him the same question I asked you
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| But now he he didn’t refuse
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| And he took off of both his shoes
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| And climbed abord mu east-bound caravan
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| In the twinkling of the night
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| He knocked me off the side
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| And left me there for dead upon the sand
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| And I thought I was done
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| Lying naked in the sun
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| When much to my surprise, who should pass?
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| But this old friend of yours
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| He said he knew you from the wars
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| And I told him that I thought you’d headed west
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| Well, he said he should have known
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| 'Cause you like to be alone
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| And that’s the time I knew you were my one
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| So I asked him for a ride
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| Just to get here by your side
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| And stay here above this stream
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| Out of the sun"
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| Well, we sat quite for a while
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| And I began to smile
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| Well it’s strange but I don’t care
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| And some nights when I’m at rest
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| I wonder if I’d said, «yes»
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| Would she have come to me from God knows where
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| Or would I have been the one to leave her lying in the sun
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| And then ended up with only precious stones
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| Or would the woman in my arms be giving me her charms
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| If the answer that I gave her wasn’t «no» |