| In the cracker barrel dumpster I found a bag:
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| Red-white striped, I opened it — gag:
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| Mummy day Pizarro dressed in a Inca rag
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| Call on in to work quick
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| Tell 'em that I’m sea sick
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| Uncle Ricky’s schooner’s docked at Pampano Beach:
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| Weigh anchor and me and him each
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| Need some extra sunblock, do it for 'em he can’t reach
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| San Juan by next Sunday
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| Mummy, mummy, mummy
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| Walking through the market, stop buy some rum and coke:
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| Plantains please, my mummy man spoke
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| But you have to pay 'cos you know dude, I’m broke
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| Sitting outside the sunset, are we in Cadiz yet?
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| Over to Majorca for few audience fit
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| Juan Carlos, his throne he go sit
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| Throw the Mummy in the dungeon bottomless pit
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| Appealing in The Hague say
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| Mummy, mummy, mummy
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| I was listening to Classic VH when I pulled an H. Singh
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| Drank myself to a stupor, ears started to ring
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| And I’ll go to Finally Al’s and type my brains away
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| Let’s play Bacci and Horseshoes and Croquet
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| But no, not cricket 'cause I can’t say their names
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| And I’ll go to Finally Al’s and type my brains away
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| Penguin, Moe, Sal, Chris
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| Penguin, Moe, Sal, Chrisssss |