The High Cost of Belief
You say that faith has got too commercial;
I say it always was.
From the Witch-Doctors’ chant dispersal,
Through the Druids’ winter reversal,
To the Oracles’ future rehearsal:
It came not for free, that sacred buzz.
Even Jesus on his mission,
Hosted at his fans’ volition,
Over suppers told his vision,
The way a schnorrer does.
You say that faith has lost its key sense;
I say it’s never there.
You long to reclaim that old-time credence
From the modern world’s grim impedance,
Yet you forget your Pagan antecedence –
Ev’ry ritual’s heathen forebear.
All belief has complex prices;
Prayers are bought with sacrifices.
To the faithful, my advice is:
Pilgrim: buyer beware.