Dead Egyptian Blues (nonfiction)

Cover of "Love Stories" by Michael Smith.

"Dead Egyptian Blues" is a song by Michael Smith.

Lyrics

Oh, Mister Tut, what good's it do? They love your chair, but nobody cares for you Egyptian nights were never colder And all your friends are thousands of years older Whatever happened to that gang down by the Sphinx Seems they're only forty winks away Those girls from Cairo with their belly button jewels Made you play the fool, yesterday, yesterday. And now you keep in shape with Elmer's Glue Because you're all wrapped up in them Dead Egyptian Blues. Oh, Mister Tut, they love the mask, Do they love it, honey, sweetheart, don't ask. Where's those baby browns and that pearly smile The smile that drove 'em wild by the early Nile. You make one terrific hieroglyphic, don't you bro' Centuries of standing sideways turned you to a pro. Those girls from Cairo, who filled your heart with lust They've all turned to dust yesterday, yesterday And those bandages don't do that much for you Because you're all wrapped up in them Dead Egyptian Blues. Oh, Mister Tut, they dig the tomb, yeah; All that gold leaf brightens up a room But what's the diff, when you're stiff, what riff they're playin' When your ears have spent five thousand years decayin' What does it matter, what possessions you may boast When you're just a ghost, it's only jive, Clive, Your sarcophagus is glowin' but your esophagus is showin' Who cares how rich you are, love, when you look like Boris Karloff Call Nautilus, they might even refund your dues Because you're all wrapped up in them Dead Egyptian Blues. (Instrumental) Oh, Mister Tut, you wait and see Another few thousand years, they're gonna dig up me And I'll have all my little treasures near at hand A CD of Sgt. Peppers' Lonely Hearts Club Band; A little dried-out Maui Wowie, crumbled in a bong; A letter from my honey, sayin' "Love ya, kid, so long" Some peanut butter sandwiches, that've long returned to sand Not much gold or silver, but, Tut, I think you'll understand That in my way, I'll be just like you All wrapped up in them Dead Egyptian Blues. note: Composed after viewing the King Tut exhibition. Michael Smith, (c)1985