O hear ye the words of the great Fluffy Bunny
When ever you feel needy , call to me
Once in the month and better it shall be when the moon is full
Or on the closest possible weekend night
Ye shall assemble in the largest living room, or suburban glade
To adore the fuzziness of my glory
As the bunny is the hunted, not the hunter, ye shall eat of no living thing
And When the priests shalt ask, are plants not also living, we will feign "not to go there"
And ye shall be freed from any work that would make scads of money
As a poor pagan is a needy pagan
And as a sign that ye are truly free
Ye shall be scantily clothed in your rites
With mixed renaissance and medieval garb and Nike sneakers
And plenty of fine gauzy scarves that will catch the flames of the candles
Lift up to me the cup of wine , except all ye who art in recovery
And allow the weight of thy jewlery ring in out in the night
As all acts of pettiness and bickering are mine rites
So ever disregard those who feign to be elders of the craft
As ye are all mine children and children of mine consort, Llewellyn
