Constantinople

O the minarets of Constantinople
Are plated gold, ivory and opal
Their cupolas all onion domed and lightAnd the magistrate of Constantinople
Has made a match, his family was hopeful
Their daughter would be promised a wedding nightBut the Sultan's weary bride, she won't be wed tonight
Nor fall beneath a canopy to lie
For far across the town her lover's lying drowned
And painted by the Bosporus in blue
And there's nothing for a broken heart to doDown the dirty streets of Constantinople
The beggars weep, their hands all wide open
Their severed leper limbs all swing and swayAt a windowsill in Constantinople
Our Hero sighs to melodies noteful
And gazes on the walls that hold his loveBut the Sultan's weary bride, she won't be wed tonight
Nor fall beneath a canopy to lie
For far across the town her lover now is drowned
And painted by the Bosporus in blue
And there's nothing for a broken heart to doNo, there's nothing for a broken heart to do
Except cry