Verse 1:
[D]Ramadan is over, the [G]new moon's shown her face,
I'm [A]half way around the planet in a [G]most [A]unlikely [D]place.
Following my song line past [G]bamboo shacks and shops,
Be[A]hind the chimney packed like sardines with [G]bananas [A]piled on [D]top.
I've ran away from politics that's [G]too bizarre at home,
The [A]way I flew too in the blue, maybe [G]Amster[A]dam or [D]Rome.
Awakened by a stewardess with [G]Spain somewhere below,
On the [A]threshold of adventure, God I [G]do love [A]this job [D]so.
So while I [G]make my [D]move on the [A]big board [D]game,
Up and [G]down that Spanish [D]highway, some [A]things remain the [D]same,
[G]Girls meet [D]boys and [A]boys tease [Bm]girls,
I'm [G]headin' out this [D]morning for the[G]far [A]side of the [D]world.
Verse 2:
Oh I believe in song lines, [G]obvious and not,
I've [A]ridden them like camels to some [G]most [A]peculiar [D]spots.
They run across the oceans, through [G]mountains and saloons,
To[A]night out to the desert where I [G]sit a[A]top this [D]dune.
I was destined for this vantage point, [G]though so far from the sea,
I've [A]lived it in the pages from [G]Saint-[A]Equer[D]ry.
From Paris to Tunisia, Casa[G]blanca to Dakar,
I was [A]riding long before I flew through the [G]wind and [A]sand and [D]stars.
[G]Cara[D]van, [A]ride that [D]hump,
and [G]Timbuk[A]tu's a [A]jillion [D]bumps
[G]Sleeping bags and [D]battle flags are [A]coiled and [Bm]furled
[G]That's the way you [D]travel to the [G]far [A]side of the [D]world!
Verse 3:
A Sunset framed by lightening bolts burns a lasting memory
And a string of tiny twinkling lights adorn the sausage tree.
While the embers from the log fire flicker, fly, and twirl
Then drift off toward the cosmos from the Far Side of the World.
Well it's Christmas and my birthday and so to that extent
The Masai not the wise men are circling my tent.
I teach them how to play guitar, They show me how to dance
We have rum from the Caribbean, and Burgundy from France.
New Year's Eve in Zanzibar with Babu and his boys
High up on the rooftop you can relish all the noise.
They are dancing on the tables people bouncing like gazelles
Two 0-0-1 is ushered in with air raid horns and bells.
Time to sing time to dance, Living out my second chance.
Cobras and sleeping bags are coiled and curled
That's the way it happens on the Far Side of the World.
Back at home, it's afternoon six thousand miles away.
It will still be there when I get through attending this soiree
There are jobs and chores and questions and plates I need to twirl,
But tonight I'll take my chances on the Far Side of the World.
Yes, that's the way it happens on the Far Side of the World.
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