Two miles east of the Nile, near the cattle ground which is five miles 'round,
Treasure is found hiding in a hideaway,
There is gold, riches, exotic wines buried beneath the triangle shrines,
And though the pharaohs are dead, the ruby bed is shining in red.

Carry me to Cairo,
Carry me unto the riches of old.

Richer than the treasure is a story that's true,
The brother, small, who ruled them all,
And when the famine came, they Pharaoh gave him everything,
They stuck him in a hole, they sold him away to a caravan that passed that day,
And though they sold him for dead, they were at his feet, begging for bread.

Carry me to Cairo,
Carry me unto the riches of old.

Carry me, oh, to Cairo,
I said, carry me unto the stories of old.

Carry me to Cairo,
(fade)