| Ramadan is over
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| The new moon’s shown her face
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| I’m halfway round the planet
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| In a most unlikely place
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| Following my song line
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| Past bamboo shacks and shops
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| Behind a jitney packed like sardines
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| With bananas piled on top
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| I ran away from politics
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| It’s too bizarre at home
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| Away I flew, tuned into Blue
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| «Maybe Amsterdam or Rome»
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| Awakened by a stewardess
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| With Spain somewhere below
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| On the threshold of adventure
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| God I do love this job so
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| So while I make my move
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| On the big board game
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| Up and down a Spanish highway
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| Some things remain the same
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| Girls meet boys
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| And the boys tease girls
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| I’m heading out this morning
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| For the Far Side of the World
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| Oh I believe in song lines
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| Obvious and not
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| I’d ridden them like camels
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| To some most peculiar spots
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| They run across the oceans
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| Through mountains and saloons
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| And tonight out to the dessert
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| Where I sit atop this dune
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| I was destined for this vantage point
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| Which is so far from the Sea
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| I’ve lived it in the pages of Saint-Exupery
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| From Paris to Tunisia
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| Casablanca to Dakar
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| I was riding long before I flew
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| Through the wind and sand and stars
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| Caravan
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| Ride that hump
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| And Timbuktu’s a jillion bumps
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| Sleeping bags and battle flags
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| Are coiled and furled
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| That’s the way you travel
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| To the far side of the world!
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| A Sunset framed by lightening bolts
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| Burns a lasting memory
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| And a string of tiny twinkling lights
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| Adorn the sausage tree
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| While the embers from the log fire
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| Flicker, fly, and twirl
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| Then drift off toward the cosmos
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| From the Far Side of the World
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| Well it’s Christmas and my birthday
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| And so to that extent
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| The Masai not the wise men
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| Are circling my tent
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| I teach them how to play guitar
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| They show me how to dance
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| We have rum from the Caribbean
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| And Burgundy from France
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| New Year’s Eve in Zanzibar
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| With Babu and his boys
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| High up on the rooftop
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| You can relish all the noise
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| They are dancing on the tables
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| People bouncing like gazelles
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| Two 0−0-1 is ushered in
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| With air raid horns and bells
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| Time to sing time to dance
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| Living out my second chance
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| Cobras and sleeping bags are coiled and curled
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| That’s the way it happens
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| On the Far Side of the World
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| Back at home, it’s afternoon
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| Six thousand miles away
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| I will still be there when I get through
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| Attending this soiree
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| There are jobs and chores and questions
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| And plates I need to twirl
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| But tonight I’ll take my chances
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| On the Far Side of the World
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| That’s the way it happens
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| On the Far Side of the World |