In the desert heated of fates of sand In golden coffins, crowds of dead days fly The Arabs touch themselves with touchy hands At the dry horizon, sadly kiss each other The caravan of souls As a color female shall Touch it with a cigarette You'll make a hole of cries Smile in a side manner Because you're still outside When you enter there, your dream will end ♪ In the desert heated of fates of sand In golden coffins, crowds of dead days fly The Arabs touch themselves with touchy hands At the dry horizon, sadly kiss each other The caravan of souls As a color female shall Touch it with a cigarette You'll make a hole of cries Smile in a side manner Because you're still outside When you enter there, your dream will end ♪ The caravan of souls As a color female shall Touch it with a cigarette You'll make a hole of cries Smile in a side manner Because you're still outside When you enter there, your dream will end