My dear faith, you speak, through so many,
Sometimes I do not if Christans are any,
I put you where you can’t be found, my dear,
When vamps become blood donors, daylight,
They don’t fear.

So I wash my Christanity daily,
Behind me is no one, there is no rally,
Cause you tell me that time will tally,
To understand you always hungry,
Is my belly.

Christanity is everywhere bells are hung,
Christanity is everywhere songs are sung,
My faith, you are like the air in ma lung,
Dear faith, your tales are just too far-flung,
It’s your bar to bear bartender, empty glasses,
You get too drunk.

Faith, I’ve never found you but serving,
It is because of you my poetry is deserving,
There is no membership card to your club,
You don’t know my name, names you don’t dub,
How are you still here when uprooted is from,
Your garden the shrub?

And here I am puking on the road for saying,
That even in a night club, sin is not praying,
And here I am whistling for the yellow cab,
The taxi driver who taught me riding free,
Who taught me to dab.