The Mummy
McFadden and Dor Lyrics

I'm a mummy. I scare people. Watch what happens when I walk up to somebody.
The mummy is aware of how scary it looks, and is curious about people's reactions to it.

I'm a mummy.
The mummy reiterates its identity.

I was born one thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine years ago. My daddy was a mummy, too. Watch what happens when I walk up to somebody.
The mummy shares its backstory and continues to be interested in how people react to it.

I'm a mummy.
The mummy reminds the listener of its identity.

I don't try to scare people. I really came back to life to buy a copy of 'Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb', but people run from me. Watch what happens when I walk up to somebody.
The mummy clarifies that it doesn't intend to scare people, and is frustrated that people avoid it despite its non-threatening intentions.

I'm a mummy.
The mummy restates its identity.

I wish there was somebody somewhere who wasn't afraid of me. Oh, well. Watch what happens when I walk up to somebody.
The mummy expresses a desire for acceptance and understanding despite its appearance, but is not hopeful about finding it.

I'm a mummy.
The mummy emphasizes its identity.

That's cool.
The beatnik responds casually to the mummy's statements.

You mean you're a mother.
The beatnik misunderstands the mummy's identity and thinks it might be a mother.

No, I'm a mummy.
The mummy corrects the beatnik's misunderstanding.

I'm a beatnik.
The beatnik shares its own identity.

People are afraid of me.
The mummy continues to reflect on its own appearance and the reactions it draws from people.

Yeah, I'll bet.
The beatnik confirms the mummy's statement.

I was born one thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine years ago.
The mummy reiterates its age and backstory.

Oh, yeah, like that's a long gig.
The beatnik dismisses the mummy's age as unremarkable.

Where can I buy a copy of 'Kookie, Kookie, Lend Me Your Comb'?
The mummy asks for help finding a specific item.

Oooh, man, I don't dig that trash. You know like Brubeck, Sherwin, modern jazz quartet?
The beatnik suggests more sophisticated musical choices instead of what the mummy is looking for.

I'm a mummy.
The mummy continues to remind the listener of its identity.

Man, you got a warped groove.
The beatnik critiques the mummy's musical taste.

Aren't you afraid of me? Aren't you gonna scream?
The mummy continues to question how the beatnik is not afraid of it.

Oh, yeah, like 'help.'
The beatnik responds sarcastically to the mummy's question.