I got baptized in the rivers of Big Sur,
By a hippie-dippie preacher-creature.
A nameless face
From a background of all the “isms”,
Conflict of schisms,
A spiritual void, so annoyed,
“Religion is for the masses!” proclaimed Mother,
Speaking of course, about the other.
But Mother Mary came to me
With Jesus at her side,
And every night they’d comfort me
So into sweet sleep I’d glide.