All the old gods on the tombs, they do the scribal dance, don't ya know. If they fall too quick, O-Aye-O, they're crouching down like a brick-O. All the ancient men by the Nile, they got their ses on a feluccia boat. Gold sails, O- Aye-O, they snap their feet on your sandal. Foreign peoples with the hookah pipes say, Ay-O-Aye-O, Ay-O-Aye-O... play like an Egyptian. The blonde scribe take their trays, they spin around as they hit the floor. They've got the mummys, O-Aye-O, you drop your wine and they bring you more. All the scribe school Egyptians so sick of scrolls, they like the thunk and limestone bands. When the door rings, they're playing like Egypti-ans. All the Egyptians in the marketplace say, Ay-O-Aye-O, Ay-O-Aye-O... play like an Egyptian. Slide your feet up the street, bend your head. Shift your knee, then you pull it back. Olive oil is so hard ya know, O-Aye-O, so strike a pose on a chariot. If you want to fall all the cops, they're crouching out in the wine shop. They drop and dance, O-Aye-O, spin the fingers, hit down the block. All the Egyptians with their ses, the ancient boys walk the rooftops. And, the Lybians know, O-Aye-O, They play like Egyptians. All the cops in the wine shops say, Ay-O-Aye-O, Ay-O-Aye-O... play like an Egyptian!