The multitudes mumble mythologies without end.
But me, I have trouble with “ologies” that pretend
to show what can’t be shown,
to know what can’t be known.
Lutherans have liturgies. Calvinists have creeds.
Muslims have their minarets. Catholics have their beads.
Methodists have methods, Holy Truth to ascertain,
But poor little me, I only have a brain.
Bishops transubstantiate. Shintos ring their bells.
Transcendentalists meditate. Wiccans weave their spells.
Hindus chant a mantra when they can’t relieve the pain,
But poor little me, I only have a brain.
So fearful of the netherland, believers band together.
Unhappy with the weatherman, the Zunis wave a feather—
They dance in circles to demand: “Great Spirit, send some rain!”
But what do you do if you only have a brain?
Quakers quake and Shakers shake. Jews eat kosher food.
Rastafarians wear their hair in pious gratitude.
They all boast of miracles that no one can explain,
But poor little me, poor little me,
I only have a brain.
© Copyright 2012 by Charles Strouse and Dan Barker
