Eskimo Joe

I'm back
In third world traffic
I'm dead amongst the static
It's coming through my ears
With a prayer mat at your feet
And a smoke that tastes so sweet
You can forget about the one's asleep
If only for one week
Inshalla
I'm standing
At an ancient treasure
But I'm dirty as a beggar
In a metal detector
And there's one thousand different ways
To say Inshalla
And there's many different ways
To spend a dollar
And even down here on the banks of the river nile
Inshalla