Andalous Windstorm

I saw you in my room last night and you always used to grow cold when you felt the ceiling fan cool your skin I remembered when we used to talk and share our memories You of morocco and mine of a morocco that never was I had a wedding dress on and I was standing somewhere in a hallway in Marrakesh You had that life and you lost it I never got that life and lost it as well. I can smell the smoke of flames gone past and songs never sung And I loved you that December Even though you were never mine Cruel but innocent man with a face so soft I never lost you my Moroccan cause I never possessed you But that's what made you so pretty lying but honest heart thief