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letra de cairo air - myths of a thistle

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we’re riding in a taxi cab through the dusty cairo air
i’m staring out the windowpane playing mental solitaire
he’s dragging on his cigarette like sucking poison from a wound
he’s swigging on his beer again like he’s got nothing left to lose

and he is twirling on his moustache like he’s a southern dandy
his pants are stained with f-g ash his sisters name is mandy
and his throne’s a broken sofa his court is a dingy hole
he’s a king without a joker and his robes are flecked with mould

he tells me how the world should be, tells me all i need to know
points his finger in thе air curls his lip and taps his toe
party in a hilltop town, pretty girls and a pool
dancing with the g-y brigadе, too drunk to feel a fool
الحياة تجعلهم يفكرون أكثر من اللازم، لذالك أصبحت حياتهم و تصرفاتهم عفوية

disorder in the streets
teargas in the air
and up here see us weep
as we the hear the curfew bell
disorder in the streets
teargas in the air
thrill of a secret meet
stories our friends to tell

and he is twirling on his moustache like he’s a southern dandy
his pants are stained with f-g ash his sisters name is mandy
and his throne’s a broken sofa his court’s a dingy hole
he’s a king without a joker and his robes are flecked with mould

i wake beside an empty pool sun is baking on my face
there she is lying there, my hand around her waist
i see the scar upon her knee against the bronze of her skin
see the chopper up above is this the point that it begins?

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