My name is Tutankhamen

My name is Tutankhamen
and I’m looking for my brain,
they pulled the bugger out my nose;
I’ve never been the same.
Oh, you can say; ‘What harm? Your dead!’
as if this quells the strife
but it screws up your social skills
here in the afterlife.

I met my favourite concubine
round the town just yesterday
I thought to demand some oral sex
but just could not convey.
I mumbo-jumbo’d, pointing down,
directing her the way
but, ‘Get your laughing gear ‘round that!’
came out; ‘Hello, I’m gay!’

Now, I’m being followed by a guy;
big chap with huge bald head.
He walks just like Cleopatra
(but looks much better fed).
He’s got a teensy-weensy dick,
it really is so small;
he says his name is Eunuch
and has no balls at all!

They took my liver and my bowels,
they even took my heart.
They’ve plugged my royal arse-hole
so I can’t even fart.
All my bits are put in jars
and they’re all sealed and hid;
no good to me when they’re all in
the fucking pyramid!

My body’s stitched and packed and wrapped
with bandages and tape;
stuck in a golden coffin,
from which there’s no escape.
Believe me lads, without your bits,
this ain’t the place to be;
watching the birds you used to own,
Screwing Mark Antony.