Crafted with such splendour The merchandise displayed By the hideous creature Who from nowhere came The sabres blades enriched With mysterious gems And characters uncought engraved
Chorus: Woe to Mortals Woe to the Mortals they read
An adept in astrology Of Greek descend Mother to the Caliph Knew what they meant Realized the merchant Strange as he was Ought to be the Giaour From the inflamed lands
Chorus: Woe to Mortals Woe to the Mortals they read The Giaur
" Wouldst thou devote thysels To me, abhor this place I will take to the place of Subterranean Fire There shall thou behold the treasures Talismans that control the world The conditions are..."
Chorus: Woe to Mortals Woe to the Mortals they read
" Abjure thy god Prove thyself !
Now that I'am parched with thirst That cannot be appeased I require blood Fifty young souls
Abjure thy god Prove thyself !
Procure for me This prime libation Or neither can my soul Nor your curiosity be satisfied "Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
