they re gathered in circles the lamps light their faces the crescent moon rocks in the sky the poets of drumming keep heartbeats suspended the smoke swirls up and then it dies would you like my mask would you like my mirror cries the man in the shadowing hood you can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face of your god the stories are woven and fortunes are told the truth is measured by the weight of your gold the magic lies scattered on rugs on the ground faith is conjured in the night market s sound would you like my mask would you like my mirror cries the man in the shadowing hood you can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face of your god the lessons are written on parchments of paper they re carried by horse from the river nile says the shadowy voice in the firelight the cobra is casting the flame a winsome smile would you like my mask would you like my mirror cries the man in the shadowing hood you can look at yourself you can look at each other or you can look at the face of your god