Here I sleep the morning through
'Til the wail of the call to prayer awakes me
And there is nothing at all to do
But rise and follow the day wherever it takes me
I stand at the window and I look at the sea
And I am what I am and what will be will be
I stand at the window and I look at the sea
And I make me a pot of opium tea
Down at the port I watch the boats come in
Oh, watching the boats come in can do something to you
And the kids gather around with an outstretched hand
And I toss them a dirham or two
Well, I wonder if my children are thinking of me
'Cause I am what I am and what will be will be
I wonder if my kids are thinking of me
And I smile and I sip my opium tea
At night the sea lashes the rust-red ramparts
In the shapes of hooded men who pass me
And the mad moaning wind laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs
At the strange lot that fate has cast me
The cats on the rampart sing merrily
That he is what he is and what will be will be
The cats on the rampart sing merrily
And I sit and I drink my opium tea
I'm a prisoner here, I can never go home
There is nothing here to win or lose
There are no choices need to be made at all
Not even the choice of having to choose
I'm a prisoner yes, but I'm also free
'Cause am what I am and what will be will be
I'm a prisoner here but I'm also free
And I smile and I sip my opium tea