This is the end of the Straight Street   Of this I am sure   You said you'd meet me at this Roman gate   The arch you adored      But now it's quarter past seven   and the last prayer is on   Resounding minarets just tell me   what I already know      So pretend to be my wife, because I   like the way the look at us   At this fare I could have him driving us back to Europe   But why would I do that   Pretend to be my wife, because I   like the way you look   But then there's something that I   thought was quite well understood   And now I face those rare blue eyes   I thought it was well understood   What's the reason, why are we here?      The small confession of intention   of the innocents abroad   You've got our fairest share of empathy   as long as you are poor      So now it's quarter past ten   The last merchant's gone home   Why were we so economical   when a life is so short      So pretend to be my wife, because I   like the way they look at us   At this fare I could have him polishing for ages, But why would I do that?   Pretend to be my wife, because I   like the way you look   but then there's something that I   though was quite well understood   And now I face those rare blue eyes   I thought it was well understood   What's the reason, why are we here?      This is the end of the Straight Street   I've been here before   You said you meet me at this Roman gate   the arch you adored      And now it's quarter past midnight   and we're standing alone   All these wishes you were far away   Now, here we are      Do you know if they're having fun?   And should we be having fun?   Do you know if they're having fun?   And should we be laughing loudly in their streets?   Do you know if they're having fun?   Sometimes it seems they're having fun   Do you know if they're having fun?   I just want to have some fun