THE MARKET AT MOS EISLEY

(Tune: "The Old Bazaar in Cairo")

Welcome strangers, come and have a look,
Our displays are guaranteed to hook,
Bargains lurk in every little nook
	In the market at Mos Eisley.

Everything you see is up for sale
We're adept at telling you a tale
Most of us are freshly out of jail
	In the market at Mos Eisley.

	Nowhere in the Outer Galaxy
	Will you find such spontaneity
	You had best be ready for the fun
	A knife, a gun,
	Or something full of nitric acid

For your stronghold, fortalice or keep,
Top class watch beast, constantly asleep
He isn't too efficient but he's very very cheap
	In the market at Mos Eisley.

Would you like some very pretty rugs
Woven by the Tarianni slugs
Impregnated with interesting drugs
	In the market at Mos Eisley.

(Instrumental: optional sand dance, cf. Wilson, Keppel & Betty.)

Body servants, small to extra large,
Bathe you, dress you, give you a massage,
Other talents run a higher charge
	In the market at Mos Eisley.

Weapons gain you status and respect,
Ours are individually checked,
We threw away the manual, it wasn't quite correct
	In the market at Mos Eisley.

	We get traders from the Inner Core,
	Some Corellians, a triple-breasted whore,
	Forms of currency, we can take them all,
	They rise, they fall,
	Economies go crumble crumble,

We get Nyronds, but they never stay,
Something always summons them away,
One sold me the planet yesterday--
	In the market at Mos Eisley!