None of them
Am B Bb Am
Oh, I come from a land, from a faraway place where the caravan camels roam.
Cm D E7 Am
Where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face; It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home.
F7 Am F7 E7
When the wind’s from the east and the sun’s from the west and the sand in the glass is right.
Am B E7 Am
Come on down, stop on by, hop a carpet and fly to another Arabian night.
Cm Am Cm Am Em Am
Arabian nights like Arabian days more often than not are hotter than hot
F7 E
in a lotta good ways.
Am Cm Am Cm Am Em7 Am E7
Arabian nights ‘neath Arabian moons, a fool off his guard could fall and
Am
fall hard out there on the dunes.
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