Starts with a bombs away sound of my little beeper turning into a beat..Zee pooh...Ze put...Shaka lacka ding ding...with a bump, bump, bump into rythme. Rumping on iron taken to the slyer ....Live life like a castaway, I'm living for ther day livid over chasing dreams...Dreams over the briar to a potential purchasing buyer living in his heart's catacombs. Digging at the start of the tunnel into the hex opposite of you...Do I stay drought in the mind's water or vanquish away the fodder...I'm riding the back of a gigantic otter. Do I start straight in the sand's of my loves crimes. Cause this is the countdown cleopatra. The sinshine to dismiss...The countdown cleopatra. The woman witch queen with a hiss! Obsessed and corrupted how do I get clean? From these curses and these nurses...The dit dop ditty dash...The countdown cleopatra...gimme some of her ash. I dropped down to the countdown cleopatra, the quick cane bake of the forsake. I dropped down the Countdown Cleopatra the 1, 2, 3 of me. The Countdown Cleopatra the architect of the artifact of who I be. Ventured conquest put my life to the test invested in desire...I never seem to time out time dripping wet in love's fire. Perspiring with the cause consequential to the mire of the nile. All set to swim upon a whim to the Countdown Cleopatra. Insipid sentry to to the Labyrinth I create. Amazed at the censure as all time shall abate.
Kept in a locket and sent to you through a veil. In the countdown to Cleopatra we shall all set sail.
(Chorus)-Countdown Cleopatra, upheld in your eyes...The tick tocking tack tag of the buck to my verily suprise...The Countdown to Cleopatra is welded to your claws...scratching away the linguidity of all see saws. The Countdown is to Cleopatra a varity against time...The Countdown of all undoings peeling away the lyme. Pucrchase me a purpose...Purporting to my bliss...Pranged in the consequence of the miraging prince. Dastards of all the bastards shattering like a thorn, spreading thick to the nick of a new freedom to forelorn. The Countdown is to Cleopatra time and time again, a Countdown to Cleopatra about to say when...Filtered out the trying well versed in a ryhme. Isosceles triangles in the courting sublime.
Parting the pantheon and entering the gale, I sting like raw instinct incisional to hail. An incise device that counter culture warns not. The incisive divestion of a solution forgot. Track me down like a snake and tame me like a scarab. My vanity is prolific and I'm not a cherub. To the Countdown of Cleopatra beating my chest like a drum, down the Egyptia of persia sticking out my thumb to a fatherless breadcrumb. My soul is a rake, slight of being delerious my premonition not to forsake. Leavings of my folly entail catharsis to my state of mind, leavings of dillusionisms to be forgetfully left behind. Peace in a whisper and glory to the gods...the countdown is to appease Cleopatra against all odds. Take me as I am, here is my sarcophogus of fury, a mirage of lost hope against a barrage of self worth's blurry. But the Countdown does not erase the Eclipso refrain like a chorus of doubt. Denial to the Demi-gods in my head as they shout. Pondering to pontifity and epiphony to derailment. Linguidity to the new language of pouting's seeming claims...I Countdown to Cleopatra...A wold to uphold, the real story all about the untold.
(Chorus)-Brilliant is a star and dark is the void...Countdown to Cleopatra as my soul is forever toyed. I am the cat and salvation is through the dog, the mouse is forgetting how the light is seen through the fog. If harmony had a licensce to pontificate proud...I would be high above it sailing on my cloud.
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