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 on opium tea At night the sea lashes the rust-red ramparts In the shapes of hooded men who pass me And the moon and the 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 But 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 on opium tea