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