Oh, I come from a land, from a far away place,
where the caravan camels roam.
Where they cut off your ear if they don't like your face.
It's babaric, but hey, it's home.
When the wind's from the east and the sun's from the west
and the sand in the glass is right.
Come on down, stop on by,
hop a carpet and fly to another Arabian night.
Arbian nights like Arabian days more often than not
are hotter than hot in a lotta good ways.
Arabian nights 'neath Arabian moons,
a fool off his guard could fall and fall hard out there on the dunes.