The Man Who Would Be King

Mogambo, the new world in motion picture entertainment Mogambo, unforgettable adventure in untamed Africa Africa, known for centuries as the white man's graveyard The heat and fury of the jungle tears The veneer of civilization from these women No holds afar as they fall in love with a man who lives for adventure Facing existential threats, my advice, kill ‘em dead No regrets, the devil’s rejects Writ large. Observe the precepts of a benevolent god Blue-eyed Prometheans in the heart of darkness. Land of the monsters. Walk like Quetzalcoatl amongst the conquered Dick hard. Put myself in the stars This woman in the dirt, face down, ass up, doing God’s work Go native, the world is yours. (It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine) The sound of Maxim guns still sends a chill up my spine Empire of the Sun never sets, a Christian’s duty is never done You can bet on significant returns to all shareholders King Solomon's mines, just give me a hundred experienced soldiers The knowledge of good and evil, sweet nothings whispered by cobras Useless baubles given to greedy chiefs Lies told with the practiced ease of an old thief When they hung the poor nigga, I felt a certain relief (No time for discretion...[yelling] I think I'm gonna run out of bullets before they run out of spears.) Take up your burden, the savage wars of peace; Fill full the mouth of famine and bid the sickness cease; And when your goal is nearest, the end for others sought Watch sloth and heathen folly bring all your hopes to nought Gold ill-gotten with guts and gleaming Martini-Henry Guns With that holy trinity, who can argue my divinity under two red suns Return like Kipling’s dead son, summoned by monkey paw A thousand Philistines slain with a donkey’s jaw Gave them the rule of law, schools, roles, jobs, clothes and shod Still, they fled to the land of Nod Eden’s East, upon his brow mark of the Beast Empire fat like a cow slaughtered for the feast The stink of a jackal’s teeth The gears of war get greased, ground ‘em down to raw meat Whites of the eyes, limpet mines An Apartheid of the mind, Brittania’s corpse exhumed Hangnail still growing, Dr. Livingston I presume Blood river still flowing The forest inexorably growing as Kinshasa crumbles The dreams of Romans drowned out by Nyiragongo's rumble Take up your burden, the savage wars of peace; Fill full the mouth of famine and bid the sickness cease; And when your goal is nearest, the end for others sought Watch sloth and heathen folly bring all your hopes to nought