Born in England, religious raised A hazy dream the world to face Indifferent to joy and pain, no measuring
Ride, only ride on the wings of the desert storm (and your) Pride, burning pride, its hunger's fed when yourself is gone
He tired to join the army then He was denied, they had too much men He studied then the ancient times Digging up relics and signs
Karkamish was where it all began He joined on armies' service then The Suez-Channel was to banned
The ghost, the gallant rider on the edge of the desert storm A miracle written in the sand, the desert plans for eternity
Feisal was the only chance To join the tribes to cross Turkish plans To end the siege to make them free
"I will go if you will go to cross the deadly plains" "I am here, the world to show what you are able to face"
The sand is grinding the face Dust is clouding their trace
The sun burns out their mind Slowly, like the sand rules the time Wing of dark, vultures fly The wind, the last battle cry
He lived his life of tragedy without a home Distracted soul caught in its face, from the start
He tried to free Arabia from its siege He paid his price on the desert plains He'd lost his soul, he'd lost his trace
The ghost the gallant soldier, A splitted soul game with the wind His mind was bound to the western world His heart belongs to the desert plains eternally!