The golden pharaoh is on the road again*
The cat is scratching at the door
In the other room Grandpa's singing
Nintendo comes on channel four
An old ca**ette tape of Dr. King speaking
A broken Walkman on the floor
A heap of warm embraces
That don't fit me anymore
Oh, what a cluttered mind
The rusty barrel gathers the rainfall
The broom is thrashing the floor
Grandma says her hands are aching
The tracking of a storm
A bee takes shelter in the window
Soon there's hundreds more
I can see their wings beating
I can feel them swarm
Oh, what a cluttered mind