Constantinople 歌词

O the minarets of Constantinople Are plated gold, ivory, and opal Their cupolas all onion domed and light. And the magistrate of Constantinople Has made a match; his family was hopeful Their daughter would be promised a wedding night. But 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 do. Down the dirty streets of Constantinople The beggars weep, their hands all wide open Their severed leper limbs all swing and sway. At a windowsill in Constantinople Our Hero sighs to melodies noteful And gazes on the walls that hold his love. But 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 do. No, there's nothing for a broken heart to do. Except cry.