With a little help from Leonard Cohen and his beautiful 'Joan of Arc'.
The night wind come from lands afar
Tells the tale of noble Shahryar
A king of fortune, with unquenched might,
His heavy crown, his aching appetite.
He said, "I've held a wound so deep
It crushed my fears, it stole my sleep."
And the silent lady at his side
Watched him embrace his sword, his one true bride.
Then spoke she, "I've one night to stay,
And you, my lord, have a debt to pay."
"Name your price," the monarch said
And she lay him down upon the empty bed.
Then when the night crept softly in
It saw her cure the fevered king.
She freed his chains, she broke his sword,
She soothed his soul, she fed her hungry lord.
The night wind called out, "Come away,
Oh Scheherazade, before break of day."
But she shook her head, that stern cold thing,
And she said, "I cannot go, I serve my king."
When Shahryar awoke from sleep
She'd taken his worn out heart to keep,
And though it seemed a distant dream,
He knew he'd won this proud and lonely queen.
People come from lands afar
Tell the tale of mighty Shahryar,
And the night wind and the desert stars
Remember his only queen, his Scheherazade.