A monk with a hard-on
In a lavender robe
That scratches his thighs
Through the height that he strode
As he follows a path
Filled with arid 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
My 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 licorice 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