Algerian Eyes

When you spelled my name
At the basement halls of an old cafe
By the end of May
It was not too hot
But I could see you glow
Like a cigarette
When I spelled your name

Where the beatniks pray
Men are fighting now
As you speak of love
And you ask me how
Then you head out west
To the seven isles
There’s a conquest in
Your Algerian eyes
And they’re moving in
Through your northern coasts
While I’m crumbling down
By the dessert cross
And your ships now burn
And their flags are high
Pray for sandstorms now
As the wind blows high
And your ships now burn
And their flags are high
Pray for sandstorms now
As the wind blows high