We sail upon a sandy sea
Our motto’s Timbuktu or bust
I can barely see my hand in front of me
And I’m choking and drowning on dust
We drive our tent pegs in the sand
The concubines, our promised land
We treat our humps well, like kittens they purr
Even loaded down with Frankincense and Myrrh
My humps have carried Caliph and King
Seen every dynasty, Medici to Ming
I’ll get them through, no matter the cost
I bow to the east and I sign the Cross
I follow Mammon, I’ve no thirst for blood
I steer clear of King Richard’s Crusade
You fight your battles, drown in the mud
I’ll sell my humps while you sell your blade
So get your rumps, so get your rumps,
Get your rumps on my humps
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