Let me lift your spiritual burden, poor soul

Sister Wanda de Sanguine is a seer of great flair,
She conjures forth the spirits, and she hangs 'em in the air,
Her crystal ball is big and bright, its polished surface clear,
For thereupon the future shows, or so she'd have you hear.

Sister Wanda de Sanguine's parlor drapes are black,
They hide the smoke and mirrors and cards in sorted packs,
She reads the person, not the future; tells all the news first rate,
They cross her palm with silver, so she'll never irritate.

"Your loved ones are here," she comforts, "though on the other side;
"Upon the day we pass away, the portal opens wide
"You'll join your loving family, your ma and pa and friends
"You'll be together for eternity, a good life which never ends."

Sister Wanda de Sanguine's hands wave around her head
Her mystical gyrations summon up the dead
Her Ouija board can spell their names and answer no or yes
Can respond to all your questions, can even make requests

Sister Wanda de Sanguine can make the table float
Her automatic writing juggles up for you a note
"They've all passed on to Heaven, nobody went to hell
"They're feeling fine; they're happy there. They're all just doing swell.

"They say to say how proud they are of how you're living life
"The future looks so bright for you, it's free of guilt and strife
"You're going to be a big success, you'll travel soon and go
"Around the world, be one with all, and make your chakra flow.

Then surfaces the Spirit Guide, an ancient apparition
This one was an In'jun chief, with foremost inclinations
For living close to mother earth, and eating natural cereals
But today he brings a warning, "Give up worldly materials.

"The money in your wallet, which you took out of your bank
"Will bring you only pain and woe, the spirits say it's rank
"With curses from an evil one who passed on long before
"If you hoard that money, you'll be plagued forevermore.

"Sister Wanda de Sanguine can keep you safe and sound
"Put your trust in Sister Wanda," his hollow voice resounds
"Give her all your money; she'll burn it before your eyes
"The flames will cleanse you of your sins, your curse, and all your lies.

So in post-séance panic, money changes hand to hand
A bandanna wraps around the stack; she drops it in a can
Her match flames up the kerosene, the bills burn, oh so bright
And the curse, the pain, and all the sins smoke away into the night

The customer goes home, now cleansed, and feels the curse has lifted
And Sister Wanda de Sanguine is clearly, dearly gifted
She dips into her flowing robes and brings out a stack of money
"Sleight of hand's a wond'rous skil
- don't you think so, honey?"