Sightseeing

For the gloomy glory of the saints,
For the calm uprising of the Moon,
I will brew this instant holiness
And I will add a bitter cynic spoon.

You can jump on my DeLorean bus.
In your own tradition can you pray,
As I’m offering a deeply-looking glass
To observe the scenery on the way.

Is that Rome? The chapel’s white in smoke.
Holy man is greeting us with grail.
Introduced himself as Borgia, the Pope -
Better skip it and continue on our trail.

Fires in the distance I see burning,
Guiding us so we don’t go astray.
Oh. There’s someone in that fire, yearning.
“Witch!” - they cry, and draw the cross again.

On this distant shore, by holy water
You are saved, my dear savage friend!
Others from your tribe, your wife and daughter,
Lie without movement under land.

Are you willing to disrupt our journey?
Are you asking for immediate leave?
Yes, you can. Just be aware, Johnny:
Swords and fires rarely forgive.