Paul Roland Cairo
Where the dark streets wind in Cairo
Where the howling jackal mourns
There the bazaar alley beggars
Twist their limbs into the wind
Where the fan blades turn in Cairo
In the swirling evening heat
Lemon teas in the cafe
Parchment scraps in the street
In the Grand Hotel in Cairo
Grizzled men sell contraband
Hurry, hear the Half-tracks crawling
Like insects through the sand
[Chorus]
Shadows run like ink over dunes to dark the Nile
Shadows run like ink to the Valley of the Kings
Where the fan blades turn in Cairo
In the swirling evening heat
Lemon teas in the cafe
Parchment scraps in the street
[Chorus]
Shadows run like ink over dunes to dark the Nile
Shadows run like ink to the Valley of the Kings
[Chorus]
Shadows run like ink over dunes to dark the Nile
Shadows run like ink to the Valley of the Kings
