The Mountain Goats
The Mummy’s Hand
If you prick us, don't it sting?
If you kick us, won't it hurt?
I am wrapped in scraps of linen and pieces of people's old shirts
But way way underneath all these sticky bands
I hold all my dreams right here in my hands

I will rise from the tomb
Like an infant emerging from the womb

I spent several thousand years down here all alone
No way to stem the lonely old ache in my bones
Say the spell three times, crank up the special effects
I'm gonna cast off all my bandages and see what happens next

I will rise fully formed
Like an infant, freshly born

I've been trapped too long underneath the ground
In the hollow darkness, but ain't no grave gonna hold my body down
I will push my hand up through the earth
And I will rise like the cry of an infant at its birth