There was a funny man on the tube
Who blessed us all, even you, Mamma
He was dressed in white
But with trainers a bit scruffy, like mine;
He made the sign of the trinity
Up-down-sideways.

Some people smiled
Some people frowned
And someone else told him to get lost.
To which their neighbour said,
Gently enough,
« oh, now come on, he’s harmless. »

At the next stop the white man got off
And I turned to you.
« Mamma », I asked,
« Was that a bad man? »
No darlin’, you said, absently,
he’s just a bit mad;
he thinks he must spread the Word.

In retrospect,
I don’t think he was any madder than the others
Who do the same thing,
In (dog) collared suits, and moral tatters.
Not sure why we trust them more:
did they have an interview with god,
or maybe they deliver the Word
strictly by the Book?
In any case,
noone seems ever to say:
come on now, it’s harmless.

Means to an end, meaning,
wrong means, different end?
or otherwise put:
scruffy trainers, no dividends.

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