He spoke of God In a lucid whisper, Probing questions rolling Off his manic tongue Like the crunching wheels of a train Well-rehearsed in the verses Of the Good Book, And the third rail...
Having failed shock therapy And the system, He rambles in public spaces, Eyes glazed by the passionate brush Of a missionary Who missed his calling...
By a manic mile...
As he smiles On the corner of Bliss And Insanity...
Switching seamlessly From: Probing preacher To: Choir teacher To: Sister Hillary...
The hand-waving, Foot-stomping sister Hillary From a baptist chapel near you...
Watch this, Dear commuters, On the 5 to 9 patrol...
This train runs Express From Hopeville to Reality, Local to Utopia, And derails at Bellevue...
This probing preacher/ *** choir teacher/ *** foot-stomping sister, Rambling on the corner of Bliss And Insanity...