A monk with a hard-on
And a lavender robe
That scratches his thighs
Through the hat that he strode
As he follows a path
Filled with every desire
And mimics his footsteps
And sets his prayers on fire.
Well i too have chosen
That which left no choice
To sing without loving,
A solitary voice,
To observe with passion
Each careful denial:
The protrusions which give my life meaning
For a while.
Sometimes i see you in berries and weeds
You`re brushing your teeth with liquorice seeds
Standing too close,
Pulling your clothes,
Smiling at god
And the meaning of life grows.
No and 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.