| There is people in a picture
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| Hanging on the hall wall
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| We watch them 'cross the desert
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| From an armchair in the hall
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| We saw the world from the edge of our seat
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| Dance with the harem and drank with sheet
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| The man on the back of the camels were following me
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| And we make ourselves a home
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| At the foot of the steps
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| Blankets and old wooden chairs
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| And we stayed there
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| We laid there, room go smaller
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| We beg for water but went for air
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| So we ran away from our old brittle home
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| We thought it was sand
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| And the lamp was the sun
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| So let’s get outside
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| €~Cause we’ve been inside for too long
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| And we take a drive
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| And the buildings all turn into trees
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| And after a while
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| We find ourselves down by the sea
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| The beach was a dessert
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| Outside in an old magazine
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| The sheiks and the harem
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| Were under the waves
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| The camels they all wash away
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| And no one is happier
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| And nothing is free
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| So I think to myself
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| We should go and get us a drink |