Marrakesh Night Market
They're gathered in circlesThe lamps light their facesThe crescent moon rocks in the skyThe poets of drummingKeep heartbeats suspendedThe smoke swirls up and then it dies
Would you like my mask?Would you like my mirror?Cries the man in the shadowing hoodYou can look at yourselfYou can look at each otherOr you can look at the face of your god
The stories are wovenAnd fortunes are toldThe truth is measured by the weight of your goldThe magic lies scatteredOn rugs on the groundFaith is conjured in the night market's sound
Would you like my mask?Would you like my mirror?Cries the man in the shadowing hoodYou can look at yourselfYou can look at each otherOr you can look at the face of your god
The lessons are writtenOn parchments of paperThey're carried by horse from the river NileSays the shadowy voiceIn the firelight, the cobraIs casting the flame a winsome smile
Would you like my mask?Would you like my mirror?Cries the man in the shadowing hoodYou can look at yourselfYou can look at each otherOr you can look at the face of your god