Pharoah:
Harn you stand before me and my audience is yours,
But do it quick because I must perform my regal chores.
You may ask me anything,
But keep in mind that I'm the king
So don't try nothing tricky
'Cause there's guards outside the doors.
Harn:
Pharoah, all you need to know,
You must let the Hebrew's go.
Even though my voice is weak,
God ordains you hear me speak.
Pharoah:
Don't you try to threaten me you fiesty little hack,
If you talk to me that way then I won't give you jack!
I'm the ruler of these lands,
You dare deliver such demands
The Hebrew's blood's not on my hands,
So just get off my back!
Harn:
Pharoah, you misunderstand.
Chosen people need a land.
If you don't loosen their restraints,
God will act on their complaints.
Pharoah:
Harn, you dunce I told you once and still you carry on.
This God should show his face to me instead of just his pawn.
Why don't you stop hounding me,
I will not set your people free
I'll close my eyes and count to three
And then you'd best be gone!
One... two.... three!
(Mitch Rotter - co-author)
Copyright 1992 Zach London