Sun and moon sit so high, like this big-a primo guy. . .
Cosa Nostra.
Feeling fine, drinking wine. . .his subjects get in line. . .
Cosa Nostra.
Swell, this king if you do his thing, kiss his big fat ring—
you’ll get bling from this fella.
Better play everything his way, or your gonna pray,
’cause he ain’t turnin’ yella.

Play your part—be his tool, don’t be like a stubborn mule,
go along, sir,
or he will have you beat by a crowd that ain’t sweet,
don’t wear gloves.
They will throttle your screams, ’cause you know
you will scream—so throat-choker.
Soon you’ll see: best to be close-mouthed and follow the
code Omerta.

--------------------------------------------------

Sun and moon sit so high, like this big-a primo guy. . .
Pater noster.
Doling wine not so fine. . .his subjects get in line. . .
Pater noster.
Smell he swings in his censer thing, always censoring. . .
you don’t see things not swell-a.
If you play, hit your knees and pray; minions of his, gay—
have their way with young fellas

Play your part—be his tool, don’t be like a stubborn mule. . .
Patsy, gofer.
No latex on the meat, no pills downed for eggs’ retreat in love.
He one time ran the team* that in old days made scream
Torah-toasters.
Equally, seems to me: in Rome and Sicily—
Cosa Nostra.


*Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the gang that ran the Inquisition. Benedict was its Capo before he became Papum.