Aqaba - June Tabor

A man, lost in time and space, adrift in his dreaming

While like an Arab steed the motorcycle flying on

Past the English fields, the misty morning hedgerow

The wind in the wire weeds, the warm sirocco sighing

Ch: Aqaba, all my life turns on you

All my life returns to you

Out of the silent wastes, no friends, no quarter

The blood is up, the senses race, the last dawn is breaking

And over the sleeping host, the unsuspecting shadows

Grim as a desert ghost to the pale ride awaiting

Now your eyes are turned from me, I shall surprise you

Turn your faces to the sea, I shall come riding

Down from the desert sands that glorious morning

Oh what a deadly dance drummed out of hiding

The puppies bobbing on the tide, the blood in the sand dunes

The sun dying in the sky, the black shades falling

Over the dead of night, the church bells tolling

The owl in his silent flight, the desert wind calling