Born in England, religious raised 

A hazy dream the world to face 

Indifferent to joy and pain, no measuring 

Never ending games 



Ride, only ride on the wings of the desert storm (and your) 

Pride, burning pride, its hunger's fed when yourself is gone 



He tired to join the army then 

He was denied, they had too much men 

He studied then the ancient times 

Digging up relics and signs 



Karkamish was where it all began 

He joined on armies' service then 

The Suez-Channel was to defend 



The ghost, the gallant rider on the edge of the desert storm 

A miracle written in the sand, the desert plans for eternity 



Feisal was the only chance 

To join the tribes to cross Turkish plans 

Aqaba was the mighty key 

To end the siege to make them free 



"I will go if you will go to cross the deadly plains" 

"I am here, the world to show what you are able to face" 



The sand is grinding the face 

Dust is clouding their trace 



The sun burns out their mind 

Slowly, like the sand rules the time 

Wing of dark, vultures fly 

The wind, the last battle cry 

'Aqaba' 



He lived his life of tragedy without a home 

No place to flee 

Distracted soul caught in its face, from the start 

Without a chance 



He tried to free Arabia from its siege 

But he'd gone to far 

He paid his price on the desert plains 

He'd lost his soul, he'd lost his trace 



The ghost the gallant soldier, 

A splitted soul game with the wind 

His mind was bound to the western world 

His heart belongs to the desert plains eternally !