Ramadan is over, The new moon's shown her face, I'm halfway round the planet, In a most unlikely place.
Following my song line Past bamboo shacks and shops Behind a jitney packed like sardines, With bananas piled on top.
I ran away from politics, It's too bizarre at home. Away I flew, tuned into Blue "Maybe Amsterdam or Rome"
Awakened by a stewardess, With Spain somewhere below. On the threshold of adventure, God I do love this job so.
So while I make my move On the big board game Up and down a Spanish highway, Some things remain the same. Girls meet boys and the boys tease girls I'm heading out this morning, For the Far Side of the World.
Oh I believe in song lines Obvious and not I'd ridden them like camels To some most peculiar spots.
They run across the oceans Through mountains and saloons And tonight out to the dessert Where I sit atop this dune.
I was destined for this vantage point Which is so far from the Sea I've lived it in the pages of Saint-Exupery
From Paris to Tunisia Casablanca to Dakar I was riding long before I flew Through the wind and sand and stars.
Caravan Ride that hump And Timbuktu's a jillion bumps Sleeping bags and battle flags Are coiled and furled That's the way you travel To the far side of the world!
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. I 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. That's the way it happens On the Far Side of the World.
Compositor: James W Buffett (James William Buffett) ECAD: Obra #11840881