Tribute
The shadows of the camels are long
On the parched ground.
On the parched ground.
The weary shuffling feet
Make no sound.
Make no sound.
Through clouds of yellow dust.
The city lies
The city lies
Turned golden to the weary
Riders' eyes.
Riders' eyes.
They shall find welcome there
From princely men
From princely men
For the sake of their frosted vase
Of porcelain.
Of porcelain.
