Drink in the atmosphere of this material plane.
As day by day the sun rises ere it sets again,
choke out that sunset with sarcophagal splendor.
What you take from this life, you must hold to remember.

A thousand splendid suns in a dead sea mirror
can’t buy you life or make the future clearer.
A billion tiny cells imprison you here in the clay;
You can’t escape no matter how long you pray.

Dust to dust and ashes to ashes…
How many moons?  But the sun still passes.
The chariot of fame will not remember your name,
so lie in your power till the new day hour.

The life in your very blood will desert you.
The priest will exclaim as he begins to convert you.
You’ll choke on the dust of your own entrails and lie
to yourself, by yourself… and die.

to all the Pharaohs who seek riches in the next life