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