Beatitudes

Blessèd are the poor in spirit
The end is near but they don’t fear it
Blessèd are the broken hearted
Now that all the madness has started

Bless’d are those who dare increase
The slender hope there may be peace
Bless’d are those who show some kindness
In a world so often mindless

Blessèd are all those who hunger
For justice in a world gone under
And blessèd are all those who mourn
May their hopes somehow be reborn

May the weary too be bless’d
May they somehow find their rest
And may the weakest ones be bless’d
When it’s done, they’ll inherit this mess

A blues in the Highway 61 style.  Since Dennis will be singing it and I don't like to drive, I wrote myself in riding shotgun.


I went down with the Moron, headed for the border
Searching for a cure for his sleeping disorder
Since he had the narcolepsy
I shot him a Pepsi right away
He opened his eyes and said where are we?
Aaaaaaah, wrong way!

Well we saw a couple hitchhikers, so we pulled over
Turned out that it was Marguerite and Casanova
He had powdered wig
He was late to his gig as DJ
We turned on Camino Real
Aaaaaaah, wrong way!

Well I saw a marble lady who exposed her breast
They locked her away, I suppose it’s for the best
They said save your quarters
You can afford a Doris Day
I tried to pay with Green Stamps
Aaaaaaah, wrong way

I met a man who said he’d lost his youth
To Marsden Hartley and to Charles Demuth
He said, Behold!
I saw the figure 5 in gold on display
Wheels rumbling through the dark city
Aaaaaaah, wrong way!

Mother Theresa met the Dalai Lama
He said to her let me tell you mama
In my horoscope
It said I will be the pope one day
But saints won’t give you nothing
Aaaaaaah, wrong way

Well I guess we took a wrong turn back at Albuquerque
The Moron said can you take me back to Berkeley
I just told him phooey
And I made a U-ie mid-highway
I don’t know if we’ll make it
Aaaaaaah, wrong way

Sister Odetta de Crécy