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
