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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