A Mischief Of Magpies

If the Sun were the size of a beach ball then Jupiter would be the size of a golf ball and a Mischief of Magpies would be as small as a pea.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Sobbing Sinners

Listen to the sound of the sobbing sinners
The Lord makes losers out of winners
Holy roller on TV
Wants forgiveness seriously
He's trying to make a monkey out of me.

Listen to the sound of the sinners crying
They've been cheatin', they've been lyin'
All those tears they don't fool me
They can cry a river, they can cry themselves a sea
I hope they drown in their own hypocrisy.

Listen to the preacher in the sweatsuit and the shades
Thinks she'll be a good girl, thinks he's got it made
Strange things happening in a hot-sheets motel
The Lord knows, he knows damn well -
Just one shot of that and you're on your way to hell.

Well he flew into Missouri in his private jet
The knife's still in his back, but he's not dead yet
He was slain in the spirit, now he's speaking in tongues
Doesn't want to touch her, just wants to watch her come
Says she needs religion, and he's gonna give her some.

Try squeezing Grace, she's the pro-life Barbie doll
She's got a message, oh and that's not all …
Lord if you're coming, you better make it soon
These guys think that your name's Pat Boone
Most of these creeps are just living on the moon.

So listen to the sinner, he's a multi-millionaire
He's living in a mansion, he bought it with a prayer
Praise the Lord and pass that ammunition
Another missionary's getting in position
Great big balls of fire, here comes the Inquisition.

(Lyrics to a song I wrote in 1988, inspired by Jimmy Swaggart and other evangelical nutters who were caught with their pants down around that time. If anyone wants an mp3 let me know via 'this moment')

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