White Light Peddlers Poem by Richard Weissman

Dolin' out enlightenment from a dropper crystal clear,
Drinkin' liquid LSD 'fore listenin' to rockers dear,
An' Yahweh musta missed it when man called sweet lesdee sin,
So we caused ourselves to right the wrong, God's holy peddler's in.

But the Blues Brothers came a 'trolling with their read 'em righteous please,
'til our fingers start a printin' and we'z quarantined like disease,
An' 'lectric eyeballs rollin', hissin' back an' forth,
With blue black bars set to south, infectious toilets north.

An' me an' roomie whisperin', our lesdee peddler's lore,
Of white light Godhead myst'ries, sold in our gen'ral store,
Still me an' roomie cautious, just in case we're bugs,
'Sides all this talk's too holy, to be busted up as drugs.