Well, the train slipped into the station
A worn out steel blue soul
A relic from, colonial days
When the French, were still in control
Lorsque les Francais, ont ete en controle
It's an outpost in transition
Where the faithful in the bar
Know from the whistle and, the squeaking wheels
That the next stop is Dakar
La prochaine etape etait Dakar
Talk on the radio
Talk on the street
Talk of men with money loco from the heat
Talk about the rail band
Picking up the beat
We lit that great reunion
With the headlights on the jeep
And there's history on that jukebox
Where the spies and scoundrels dwell
It was the place to go, in Bamako
Di-rec-cion, Buffet Hotel
Di-rec-cion, Buffet Hotel
Now we're lost in the Sahara
Four hours north of Tombouctou
Looking for, a nomad who knows
Or maybe some wandering Jew
Allons a Essakane, Syndou
Then we heard that Tuarog combo
We had come so very far
And we were welcomed out of history
By the wind, the sand and the stars
J'ai commence, a le percevoir
Sand in the couscous
Sand in the wine
There was sand in my guitar case
Stories in my mind
Machine guns on the hilltop
Camels in my tent
Buried in a sandstorm
As the music came and went
Well, we crawled out of that desert
And the storm, erased our tracks
The Sahara showed, her heart to us
And then, she took it back
Well, we made it back, to Bamako
Before that last call bell
We bought rounds for all our newfound friends
We owned Buffet Hotel
Nous avons eu Buffet Hotel
Laissez les bon temps rouler
Tout le monde
I recall diplomats
And hookers
I saw strangers, digging wells
And for that, one great night, in Bamako
We owned, Buffet Hotel