Burning sands and fragrance of exotic flowers
And eerie music drifts from eastern towers
A wisp of trailing veil
A Muslim's evening wail
You in the midst, my mirage
Soft hands caress me through the mystic night
Warm lips that thrill me with such strange delight
My love's a desert flower
That blooms for just an hour
Then fades and dies with my mirage
Framed as you are in my memory
Just the thought of you awakes my desire
Longing to fan smouldering embers of dreams into reality's fire
Come to my arms and let my hands retouch
And hold again the love that hurt so much
The east lives in my mind
Why can't I wait to find?
You are real and this is no mirage
Other Matt Monro songs:
all Matt Monro songs all songs from 1961