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Mummy (Used To It) (click for MP3 file)

It always starts with the disbeliever
The one who never thinks the legends are true.
He likes to see first, and not the reverse,
He walks around like he’s got something to prove.
He always stays when the others run away.
He likes to say he’s to smart to be afraid.
He opens doors leading to forbidden rooms
And walks right down into Tutankhamen’s tomb
And when he sees one, he screams, “Run!”

Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!

When old King Tut died, clever Egyptians
Embalmed a holy man to sit by his side.
When Tut awakend, to make his journey,
The priest, a mummy now, would serve as his guide.
When Tut was gone and the priest was all alone,
He put a hex on his pyramidal home.
Then went to bed for three dozen centuries,
Until a grave-robbing ghould disturbed his sleep
And when the stone slipped, exposed crypt:

Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!

The hieroglyphics, the should have warned you
But to a know-it-all, they don’t mean a thing.
Even a gold throne, sacred and unknown,
Could mean a lot to friends of Tut, the boy king.
And then your men started coughing up their blood,
And one by one, keeling over in the mud.
The lesson taught, the tuition paid in death,
But did you learn to respect the mummy’s wrath?
Oh no, you’ll just die, and never know why:

Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!
Or as Sexy put it, “MUM-WEEE!”