Truth Hunters

We're two truth hunters on seperate sides of a one way street.
Him, he's walking in stride muttering in latin and eating wafers
And I, I am pleading through the bars for men and women to call on God.
We're two truth hunters strolling through a neighborhood of shared experiences 
Explosions in our histories that shaped us against the major deceptions. 
History and tradition drape from his neck. I'm reading Proverbs at the tavern over whiskey.
He begs me to cross, professing what a powerful cardinal I'd be. 
I remind him that the Catholics are the protestants to my position. 
We're two truth hunters on opposite sides of a one way street, shuffling in the same direction slowly. 
I throw rocks at his house and he calls me a Nephilim as we laugh.  
We're not killing each other or bottling our hate to pass around like sipping whiskey. 
We keep an eye on each other from a distance, calling out potholes and gutter rats- pointing to broken street lights as we each read our copy of the map.
 We differ in doctrines but what is it that Christ said again?
"By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”