WISE MEN

Three men walk into a bar
Its one of those warm African nights
Three beers at the bar
Will make them kings

Before the night ends
They’ll be dancing cheek to cheek
To ‘rule my destiny’
In the shadows feet to feet

Eventually they find their souls
At the bottom of toilet bowls
The father, the son and the holy ghost
And whisper prayers into dirty sheets

Three men walk into a bar
On one of those warm African nights
They are kings
But none walk out alive