A monk with a hard on in a lavender robe

That scratches his thighs for the height that he strode

As he follows a path filled with harried desire

And mimics his footsteps and sets his prayers on fire

Glad to have chosen that which left no choice

To sing without loving in a solitary voice

To observe with passion each careful denial

The protrusions which give my life meaning for a while



Sometimes I see you eating berries and weeds

You're brushing your teeth with licorice seeds

Standing too close, holding your clothes

Smiling at God, the meaning of life grows

No, no I'll never tell and I'll never know

What candles you light after the show

And I'll never tell and I'll never ask

The meaning of life after mass