The Song of the Society of
Metaphysicians and Roofers

Philosophers and roofers meet
On rooftops high above the street,
And though bereft of looks and youth,
They join to contemplate the truth.

The members of this union dance
Along the gutters, in a trance,
While higher up, in Heaven's keep,
The angels watch, and count, and weep --
The angels see that roofs are steep,
And due to tripping on a trough,
That membership keeps dropping off.
Yes, due to tripping on a trough,
The membership keeps dropping off.

Philosophers and roofers fall
Towards the doom that 'waits us all,
But short of crashing in a heap,
Each makes a tricky little leap,
A leap of faith (of which they're fond)
By means of which they go beyond,
That is to say, they don't quite end,
But rather, suddenly transcend.

-- C. C. Thistlethwaite