Song for James Randi

Anybody have the lyrics? I couldn’t understand a few.

Hey, since the site above is old and terribly hard to deal with (though kudos to ‘ag’ for finding it), here are the lyrics:

It was a fragrant mix of patchouli oil, body odor
and some distinctly indefinable – but something like a burning spice rack
She had long, long hair that she put in braids,
a faded purple dress it looked homemade,
and she reminded me, vaguely, of Princess Jasmine – from Aladdin
She said she was into “the arts of a spiritual nature”,
and I immediately pictured a bad-ass black velvet painting of Jesus holding a deer.
Then again, that’s what I always picture
She said she had all the secrets of the whole damn world in the palm of a hand
and they could be mine – crystallized, simplified, utterly convenient

Her tiny voice was sweet and soft and barely broke a whisper
It could all be mine for an introductory price!

Well, i hate to tell you sister,
but I belong to the James Randi school of hard knocks
For the price of an hour at your spiritual center I could buy myself a five star dinner,
which is more filling, and fulfilling, after all

Alright, listen – he was serious, so serious that I can’t even begin to convey how serious -
buying four packages of children’s wood paint, to paint his wand
But he said that he needed them for his hierophant ritual,
with opening by watchtower, as laid out by israel regardie
in his official, leather-bound edition of the esoteric and true magic rites
of the sacred and hermetic order of the Golden Dawn

Then he went on to explain that it was Quantum Consciousness Expansion
With a bright pink mohawk and an old leather jacket (and it looked like he bit his nails an awful lot)
he said “hey, if I can get up the nerve i’m going to drill a hole in my head ’cause that’s supposed to do…something!”
Well, buddy, maybe you ought to go for it

‘Cause if you pay 242 dollars a year to your friends at the OTO
and all you’re getting back is the yearly newsletter,
I’ve got some bad news for you

I belong to the James Randi school of hard knocks
Instead of an Egyptian Book of the Dead why not get yourself a Crowley bobblehead?
It’s more fun, and just as functional, after all

Instead of hiring that medium, psychic or dowser,
you could invest in a skepchick pin-up calendar
They predict the future more accurately
and look a hell of a lot better naked than Sylvia Browne

Have you heard the music of Colorpulse? I recommend starting with Glorious Dawn.

http://www.symphonyofscience.com