OF ANTIOCH

Because Anthony ran about the desert,
Hiding from people, never speaking
And living on uncooked roots
The folks of Antioch made him a saint.
Heaven spruced him up,
Issued him a card entitling him to draw
Upon the illimitable power of God,
And gave him a pig. (Every St. Anthony
Has a pig. It is a universal constant.)
The other St. Anthonys -- there
Are ten of them --worry about him.
He is, by default, the patron saint
Of those who have no patron saint.

THE OLD KING BOHEMUND BLUES

Got a girl in Antioch

Got one in Tripoli
Lord! A gal in Antioch
Also one in Tripoli
That old girl in Antioch
Gonna be the death of me.

My mamma was a Saracen
My dad a Ferenji
My mamma was a Saracen
My dear dad a Ferenji
(Yes he was)
I wake up each morning
And I'm at war with me.

Went to bed last evening
King Bohemund came to me
Yes, went to bed last evening
That grey ghost he came to me
Asking what I mean to do ‘bout
Antioch and Tripoli

There's sand in all my clothing
Ain't never seen no snow
So much sand in all my clothing
Never seen no snow
Gonna pack up all my troubles
And move to Cipango.