The words have withered on the vine

The colors cleaned by turpentine

Water comes from what was wine

Three dumb men have come to dine


Unleavened bread can not be found

Your bloody wine does not astound

The silly priests have now ungowned

The pious prayers are not profound


The shofar shouts but is quite mute

The papal bulls are neutered, moot

The Incense burns just to pollute

No mortal sins can they commute


The Imam conquers and he kills

We all regress to fish with gills

The witches burn on all the grills

The Middle Ages have sequels

David Gottfried, Copyright 2008



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