Arabia, Arabia, Arabia. . 6 o'clock in the mornin'. I'm the last person in this plane still awake. Y'know, I can almost smell the blood washin' against the shores.
You're floating down a tunnel in a little wooden box. You're cold and you're lonely and enveloped in fog. You've been pried open and left here to die.
*******************. I followed that bead of sweat,. to the small of your back,. from the nape of your neck,. Lightin' it up, with every drag upon my cigarette..