I took my bucket down to the well. There's a (desert?) woman sweet mystery. She let the rope fall down in the well. Like it was meant to be. She put the jug upon her head. Walked with her back to the wind. I followed her tracks the moment she said. "Why don't you come in?". chorus:. She killed the light she dropped her glove. She said "Are you looking for trouble. Or looking for love love love?". I woke in the morning dying of thirst. Headed straight back to the well. There she was with a jug on her head. The rope had just fell. The well in her eyes was deep and black. With no question or answer. She wiped my brow and I followed her back. To the Tropic of Cancer. chorus.