Down on the deserts of Arabia
there is a pretty Bedouin queen,
Safe on my steed I sit and dream of her,
framed in the sunlight's golden sheen.
My Maid of Mystery, you threw a kiss to me,
You stole an Arab lover's heart,
In Bagdad 'neath the olive trees,
I cherish memories of the time
when my khedive bids me start,
Across the desert grand into a distant land,
Off to the big black sea
and through the mist I'll ride,
To make you my bride,
My Maid of Mystery.
Her lips like rubys set with ivory
her skin of olive, hair of jet,
Out of the mist she seems to sigh to me,
I know she's waiting for me yet.