Across the Burning Sands

With bare feet we cross the desert sands,

Short of breath and hard of hands.

So little water, bereft of shade,

Such is our fate, of that of slaves.

…

Into the mine we all descend,

By our god's word this land we rend.

Above us beats the blazing sun,

No escape for us, we cannot run.

…

Some collapse, others go blind.

But our god demands, he is not kind.

Our tribute goes to Ra's domain.

This is his word, we have no claim.

…

And at last, the day's work ends,

But we all know what portends.

More and more the sun god craves,

We must provide, we are his slaves.