Pharaohs dancing in Cairo night club
And after work I would watch television and
They showed archeologist
Digging
Dragging
The tombs of pharaoh
The gods and goddesses
The ancient curse
But tutankhamen never struck
The poor archeologist
Maybe they too
Wanted to be discovered
After what Jesus did
Maybe they wanted to see
World one more time
The mummy?s eyes all stare blank dead
There?s an alter in my room
Where I pray
I don?t need to bury my god
I don?t need to pray
Excuse for a poem
Still digging the gods
i am brain-dead
there aint even birds chirping from branches
coz it?s winter and like MG said
they all went on temporary leave
else I could have written about them
it?s a regular cold day
there are no butterflies
coz
there are no flowers
coz it?s winter u know
they are all buried with pharos for a while
I want
Tornado; flood; famine; jesus; jedi
Something to happen
So I can write
Fukin place dry dead white desert
Coz it?s winter u know
I can?t write
Why should I even try
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