The superficial thinker

Is spreading his pseudodox;

The sneaky little stinker

Diseases hearts with his talks;

He believes in nothing

But making money, hand over fist;

He believes in nothing, but nothing,

He’s a well-known atheist:

He’s the Tod of Mod.

He thinks he leads a normal life,

Just like ev’ryone else;

But no one has his strife,

Nor do they have his Hells;

Any belief is a crime,

But crime is not a belief;

He needs relief from time,

But has no time for relief:

He’s the Tod of Mod.

He thinks he’s outsmarted them all

With ev’ry trick of the trade;

Unmindful of pride before the fall,

He’s sure he has it made;

He lives for himself,

But also alone;

He lives on a shelf

In someone else’s home:

He may be the Tod of Mod

But he’s forgotten about God.

(written in 1968)