He showed up to the salon,
Claiming that he had the solution to it all,
We thought he was like Newton,
Inspired by the apple’s fall.
He wore no wig, nor a silken shirt,
He wore a robe, hanging like a skirt.
I am the way, the only way,
With pompous pride, he said
Praise my father in heaven,
When I rise up from the dead.
We laughed and asked
If he had the slightest proof,
He turned a glass of water into wine,
And showed us Satan on the roof.
We said nothing and drank our tea,
We said it could be explained, scientifically:
The drink had changed, from
Striking the atoms in a fashion,
That made their ether vibrate,
This was the secret behind his passion.