No one knows the way of Mary, matchless lover;
With each breath, she anoints her beloved savior.
No one knows the way of Hallaj, Master of Truth;
His rolling head is forever full of joy and mirth.
No one knows the way of Mira, praising Krishna,
lost in song and dance for beloved Gopala.
No one knows the supreme way of San Francesco:
perfect poverty, suffering, longing and canto.
No one sings and no one dances for the Now-Christ:
Religion is now a feel-good prosperity heist.
Come the day when all media is smashed, and song
Is the coin by which all strive to forgive all wrong.
Darvish agrees the revolution will not be televised-
Mary, Hallaj, Mira and Francis will be reprised.