Moses brought the rules
for every sinner saint
and fool
And handed each a portion
of the blame

But a man is only wise
when he begins to realize
that a wise man
never ever plays
the game

We’ve ******
into the abyss
of life leaving
chaos and strife
in our wake
for the sake
of the almighty
buck.
We’ve ******
societies dogs;
Rabid *******
howling madly
through Autumn’s
aborted twilight,
their plight abandoned
by the clergy and
the evening news.

Marveling at the mystery
of histories sardonic wit.
Six thousand years of
man’s inhumanity to
man chiseled in our
sacred Book for all
to see.
The face we show
the world a dark
mask better left in
shadow far away
from integrity's
flickering glow.
The three great
beasts that sprang
from Abraham’s
seed locked in
mortal combat
while the lion
eagerly waits
to devour the
carnage.

The owl and the ***** cat
went to sea in a boat
without an oar
When the boat sailed home
the cat was alone
and the owl was no more

Hey ****** ******
I’ll tell you a riddle
and I bet you’ll never guess
That Jack B. Nimble
was Jack B. Quick
beneath Miss Muffet’s
dress

Little Sol Hornstein
sat next to Maureen
eating his Christmas
pie
He stuck in his fork
and pulled out some pork
And said ‘what a bad
Jew am I’.

Wee Willie Winkie
Tiptoes through the house,
Upstairs, downstairs
Quiet as a mouse.
Closing every window,
Locking every door,
Drinking all his daddy’s beer
And barfing on the floor

The hippy dippy spider
went uptown to score
He got a bag of ****
from the hippy dippy
store
He smoked up all that
**** with his hippy
dippy friends
So the hippy dippy spider
went uptown again

There was a crooked man
Who walked a crooked mile
He met a crooked woman
Who wore a crooked smile
He brought her to his crooked house
And upon his crooked bed
He had his crooked way with her
(And now the ***** is dead)

(And from an old restroom wall)

Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry
When the boys came out to play
(He kissed them too cuz' he was gay)

There's darkness
rising in the land

Strange dead
hands reaching
through the ether
to drag souls back
to oblivion's
devastating abyss

Oh, never mind...

It's just the Tea Party

A good man died today
Buildings did not close
Flags were not flown at
half mast
School children  
attended classes
and life went on
as it did yesterday
and will again
tomorrow.

But he was my friend
and people should know

A good man died today

Brothers and sisters
you’ve got it all wrong
You're humming the
chorus but don’t know
the song
Put down your Bibles
and get off your knees
Get out in the sunlight
and into the trees
The poor and the hungry
are waiting for you
The sick and the homeless
and downtrodden too.
For this is the message
you all fail to see
'What you do unto them,
you do unto Me.'

Within the glade
comes the parade
of the yellow lizards
with the wizard in blue
leading the way
to the place where
faces are never shown
and rotting flesh clings
to bones brittle and old
and exceptionally cold.
Along the way I see
the decay and in haste
I quicken my pace
turning my face away
as the wizards yellow lizards
look on in obedient disgrace.
It’s all a blur as I awaken
with the mistaken illusion
of the nights terrible
passing.
Was it just a dream?
Isn’t everything?

I looked outside my window
and man what did I see
An angel and a devil
they were sitting in
my tree
And on a branch between them
hung an apple ruby red
I asked them what the deal was
and this is what they said:

“A man he has two choices
and soon he must decide
He can follow the instructions
or throw them to the side
The world is made of black and white
so friend it’s pretty clear
Now kindly make your mind up
and we’ll both be out of here”

I said “you must be joking
there are rainbows everywhere
And fifty different shades of grey
on which we can compare
There's up and down and left and right
and places in between
And a million different colors
that I've never even seen

"No, it's really simple"
said the angel and his friend
"And the sooner that you make
your choice the sooner this will
end
You see we're really busy
and I think it's going to snow
So make your mind up quickly
cuz' we've really got to go"

I said "I must apologize
for I will not decide
I will not play your silly game
on that you can abide
So you might as well get comfortable
yes make yourselves at home
You're going to be up in that tree
until the cows come home"

Well friends that was ten years ago
and still I see them there
They give me the most ***** looks
but I don't really care
They've made their own decision
to sit up in that tree
And if they freeze their ***** off
than what is it to me?

I treat all people kindly
and I'd help you if you fell
And if that isn't good enough
I guess I'll rot in hell
But I think I'll have good company
on this I'm pretty clear
Surrounded by a feast of friends,
and plenty of good cheer

The Lord was my shepherd;
But not anymore.
He maketh me to lie down
in green pastures with the
weak minded beasts of the
field.
He dooms my soul to eternal
slavery.
He leadeth me beside waters
of condemnation.
Yea though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for it was thou
who brought me here.
Thy rod and thy staff wait eagerly
to punish my heresy.
Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of mine enemies:
Enemies I did not have before
joining thy flock.
Goodness and mercy should be gifts
unbidden.
I have seen the hallowed gates
of thine house oh Lord yet prefer
the stables.

I find there is more humanity there…

Waves snap along
the moonlit shore
as a T-Rex bass line
carries ’The Mambo Sun’
through my soul and out
across the dream crested
Atlantic

Right here

Right now

I am free

Nirvana is made up
of moments such as
these

One for all and all for one
We’re together everyone
We’re together one and all
Though our voice is rather small
Even though our voice is small
We’re together one and all
Getting louder everyday
Growing strong in every way
Growing strong and getting loud
Standing tall and standing proud

Pretty soon they’ll here our cry
From every corner of the sky
Crying out for liberty
Stop the killing
Let them be
Can you hear me Sarah P
If they die then they ain’t free
If you **** them one and all
Then you've only built a wall
Built a wall and locked the door

Somewhere between
no place special and
nowhere fast the last
of mankind’s honor
lies bleeding and
alone.
The receding tide
of ignorance carries
a crimson warning
that I fear will be
unheeded by future
generations of neocons
bowing before greed’s
unholy altar.
Arise and cast away
your golden calf
for in death the
breath of eternity
pays no heed to
souls blinded by
prosperity's lies
but in eyes alive
with compassion,
longing for a better
world

I hardly knew my mother
and I barely knew my dad
But god I knew John Lennon
he was everything I had
I mimicked everything he did
my life was all the rave
Until the day that Chapman
sent my hero to his grave

That day still burns in memories
that time cannot erode
A generation's legend
shot and bleeding in the road
For me it was the final straw
that broke my timid chains
I vowed I would preach tolerance
and never hate again

I confess it isn't easy
to accept some points of view
and I find myself quite often asking
'What would Johnny do?'
But then I take a minute
and perhaps a couple more
Just until I'm certain
I won't knock you to the floor

(I'm still working on the tolerance part)

The fire burning.

The liar turning
away from realities
decomposing core
while the doors
of perception
remain barred to
all but a privileged
few.
Truth lies not within
abandoned pews or
the Jew’s unread book
but in eyes willing to
look beyond the concept
of time and space to the
place where nothingness
and being coexist without
apprehension

I asked her for a sentence
that both pleases and bemoans
She said "your brother's *****
is much smaller than your own"

Far off in the distance
I hear her fretful wail
No purpose in resistance
it would be to no avail

Like Sirens from an ancient ode
she heralds my demise
Inviting me to her abode
and all that it implies

As a lamb unto the slaughter
in innocence I go
A manipulated plotter
of a life I could not know

Thus my friend I go to her
and freely seal my fate
I ask that you do not demur
for the hour is getting late

And so I bid the world adieu
and leave this disarray
As for the likes of me and you
there can be no other way

Encroaching madness
approaches from unexpected
corners of oblivion’s indifferent
layer.
Lost souls wander aimlessly
through tomorrow’s aborted
twilight ignorant of realities
cataclysmic inclination.
This is our truth, our way,
our direction.
Darwin’s natural selection
dooms us all to Valhalla’s
halls crowded with calamities
mediocre sons and tyranny’s
unadorned daughters.
The water of truth must find
its own level while the mud of
deception remains firm beneath
our jaded feet

Give me a reason to keep on going
Give me a reason to rise and shine
Give me the courage to face the morning
Give me ambition and a steel spine
Give me a clue to the destination
Give me direction to the *** of gold
Give me a sign to know that you’re out there
Give me a moment away from the cold

Hello?

Naught but an echo in the hollow ether
Not but the wind to carry the sound
Naught but the laughter of yonder mountain
Naught but a tombstone in lonely ground
Naught but a memory that fades in the moonlight
Naught but a thought that passes away
Naught but a soul to vanish forever
Naught but a tear at the end of the day

Beyond what is known
The ultimate creator
The ultimate self
Beyond the concept of time
The timeless spirit is found

Ok I’m here
Where are my virgins?
What? You mean those toothless
old ladies with the warts and sagging ****?
No no! I mean the 72 young hotties the
Koran promised would be waiting for me
when I arrived.
What’s that?
You say the Kennedy brothers
got to them first and this is all that’s
left?

**** Americans!

Bitten

Most of us were laughing
at the lady dressed in rags
She pushed an ancient shopping cart
filled up with paper bags

We gazed at her through Ray-Bans
and we flashed our teeth of gold
We huddled warm inside our coats
as she shivered from the cold

We didn't move to lend a hand
or help in any way
We mocked and laughed like stupid fools
with nothing kind to say

But now I find I think of her
in rags, without a dime
I'd surely do things differently
if God would turn back time

But alas it is to late for that
despite my change 0f heart
Yes I think about her on the street
as I push MY shopping cart

Calico Zombies wander
the neon gardens of the
American night grasping
aimlessly for connections
their erections ignored by
the ****** in the doorways
along 5th avenue.

“We are unique”.
“We are calico”.

The mantra of a hundred
million lemmings fading in
the moonlight as they slowly
drown beneath the waves of
their own exclusive ignorance.

I thought I knew
but I didn't know
In fact, I doubt
I ever knew

I guess it doesn't
matter anymore

**** it, I don't care

I've got three dollars
to my name and it's
more than enough
to see me through

In fact, there may
even be change left
after the curtain
falls

What?
It's over?

****, I missed it!

'Okay folks,
move along'
Says the blood
spattered Cop
'I said, move along!
There's nothing
to see here!'

That's right
Crawl back into
the neon forest
that is middle
America.
Go on!
If you hurry,
you might catch
the last half hour
of that Kardashian
show

'What was all the *******
fuss about anyway?'
Says one old *** to another

'What indeed?'
I answer from the shadows

They turn quickly at the sound
of my whisper, but laugh it off
as nothing more than the October
wind howling over the rooftops

Perhaps they're right...

I play my songs
for nobody
In sacred fields
of strawberry
Imagining
the world of man
much better than
I understand

While changing chords
from C to A
I watch the children
laugh and play
They run around
with happy grins
oblivious to shades
of skin

I change again
from A to F
and wonder if
the world is deaf
The songs of love
the children sing,
To jaded ears
don't mean
a thing

In the days since our beginning
and the moments since our end
We accept the true reality
and forget how to pretend
And await the coming savior
or the latest fad and trend
but you find you can’t buy
happiness no matter what
you spend
Forgiveness is elusive
Redemption is sublime
And occasionally there’s
solace in the whiskey or
the wine
But you'll never find
salvation while kneeling
in the pew
Jesus left the building
but the Christ resides
in you.

And Jesus said, "He who drinks from my mouth will become as I am and I shall be he"

Gnostic Gospel of Thomas vs. 108


1
They sang and
they danced in
praise of the
Savior

And I left the church

I walked quickly
and I was at the
water's edge.
A man waist deep
offered to baptize
me in the name
of the Lord...

And I did not stop

Further on, a sorrowful
Mother asked if perhaps
I knew of her son
Jesus…

But I pretended not to hear.

In the forest
the twelve
approached me
with a message
of good news...

But I paid them no mind.

2
And when I came
to a clearing I met
a young man whom
I had always known.

His beard was unkempt
and blood was dripping
from wounds in his hands
and feet.

A crown of thorns sat
upon his head, and blood
trickled down his cheek.

'Do you know me?' he asked.

'Of course I know you!' I shouted.
'I left you behind at the church!
At the river, one of your followers
sought to baptize me and along the
road a Mother spoke your name.

In the forest, your apostles
confronted me with your
message.
Did I not take my leave
of them all?
I thought I was rid of you,
yet here you stand

Tell me! Why do you haunt me?
Why can I not leave you behind?'

3
He grabbed my shoulders
and I felt the pain in all
of my body and in all
of my being
and he asked me again:

'Do you know who I am?'

'You are the Christ!' I cried
'And I have heard your
story from every church and
holy man in the kingdom.
But I want nothing to do
with you!

I want only to leave you
behind and live my life

At this he looked into
my eyes and as his
penetrating stare drew
my senses to his being,
his face began to change.

He was one of the
singing parishioners at
the church.
Then another,
and another until the
likeness of each one
was in him.

Then he was the
man in the river
and the Mother,
and every one
of the twelve
and I stared
in disbelief

He began to take
on the appearance
of everyone I had
ever known and
even those I would
never meet.

His face was changing rapidly:
African, Asian, Spaniard, European,

From every race and every creed
he became everyone who ever was
and everyone who ever will be…

A few I recognized.

Mohamed, Caesar, the Buddha,
Pontius Pilate, Krishna, Herod,
Moses, Pharaoh.

Faster and faster he changed until
I was dizzy with incomprehension.
Then, as quickly as it had begun,
the celestial parade ceased.

He was Jesus again, standing before me.
His hands and feet caked in blood.
The crown of thorns still resting atop
his head.

4
'I do not understand,' I said.

And he smiled.

And again he looked into my eyes.

'You can never leave me behind.'

And as he spoke he began to change again,

And I found myself standing before another image.

One I surely knew well.

There…

In the clearing of a forest
that existed beyond the boundaries
of space and time,

I looked into my own eyes...

And understood.

This really isn't Heaven
and it ain’t exactly Hell
A fleeting glimpse of
freedom at the bottom
of a well.
They say they’ve got
the answers in their
jaded Holy book
And they tell me I’ll find
Jesus if I stop and take
a look.
Existence is a strange thing
and death is stranger still
And they say there’s no
religion in those tiny little
pills.
But what the hell do they know
in their ivory covered halls
When the devil’s on the
rampage and he’s got you
by the *****.

And the pain is never ending
in that cold and empty pew
God has left the building
he’s got better things to do.

Once, long ago
I gazed upon
the world with
conformity’s eyes
and found it absurd

And I cursed existence
and my fellow man

I built a wall to defend
the tattered remnants
of the sanity I perceived
I still possessed

I built a wall that quickly
became a desolate prison
standing cold in the face
of forgiveness and love

I ignored beauty’s gentle bliss

I insulted love in the name
of an antiquated morality

Oh spirits
Oh demons
Oh harbingers
of what lies
beyond
perception

It was to you
that I entrusted
my salvation

It was to you that
I prayed in expectation
of deliverance

I begged for naught
but a cessation of being
to relieve the nightmare
of existence

In desperation
I grasped the reins
of intolerance

I drew the sword
of superficial righteousness
carving a swath of condemnation
through the ranks of my brothers
for the sake of a disapproving God

I wounded virtue in the name of heaven

I exchanged reason for faith

I threw compassion to the dogs of indifference

What pain has my existence
brought my fellow man?

My path to salvation lies
hidden among the bones
of those I once held dear

Heaven should not
exact such remuneration
for paradise cannot be
purchased with the blood
of hatred and the
tears of martyred tolerance

I will not kneel before
such an altar

Not again

Never again

If perdition indeed
holds a place for
faces such as mine,
the lines of which
are the essence of
a depressing viewpoint,
then I openly welcome
my fate.
Lucifer, set my plate
somewhere between
Dickinson and Twain
so I may learn from
their sardonic wit
just what it means
to be human
and what it means
to love and to feel
and to reel against
it all and to fall
and to rise again
over and over till
the end of time in
the sublime ecstasy
of the soul's droll
brilliance.

The movie ends and
the credits roll and the
droll lights blind our eyes
to the reality of
existence.
The distance between
now and eternity is 300
unadorned seconds.
Bliss or imagination,
can anyone really know
for sure where the pure
spirit lies in the moments
after death when breath
and heart and thought
cease forever, falling
into the clever trappings
of eternal silence?
Even as we ultimately
expire, will we know?
Our minds true essence
is lost without regard
to the realm of fantastic
illusion and the delusional
ranting going on around
us.
Where does the truth lie?

It’s twenty odd years
since irrational fears
drove away all your
hopes and desires
Now all that remains
is a shell and a frame
of a man that I once
so admired
The light in your eyes
was as bright as the sky
on a cold sunny day
in December
Now the fire is gone
and the light passes on
leaving only the glow
of the embers.

The decay of
imagination
and compassion.

What never
should have
been has become.

When the seed of love
is smothered by the weeds
of desperation and the fires
of Hell scorch in the breast
the withered heart of man
then you will understand.

Paradise within.
Sin vanishes with
the light.
The night has passed.
At last salvation and
reconciliation with
God.
Eternity in a drop
of water.
Forever in a grain of
sand.

Through the centuries, ecclesiastical types have called poets deviants and inferred we would burn in Hell for our heresy. I've often wondered what the rhymes of a condemned poet might look like...*


#1
The serpent got
a ***** wrap
as well as did
the Jews
And if you read
between the lines
you won't believe
The news

#2
As I'm not
a Christian
I think it
quite odd
That I should
be punished
by a biblical
God

#3
God the father
and his boy
appear to find
the greatest joy
deciding who
will sing or fry
in pits of Hell
or Heaven’s sky
Me thinks I’d
rather burn in Hell
for truth be told
I don't sing well
Besides in Heaven’s
realm I hear they’ve
put a ban on wine
and beer

#4
Scribbled notes
on wrinkled pages
offer up my
rants and rages
To the gods
both big
and small
who really
don't exist
at all

#5
Going to Hell
is not my intention
For Hell I believe
is your little
invention
Ingeniously
Crafted for
scaring the
masses
By threatening
Flame if they
don't kiss your
*****.

#6
Such a simple
happenstance
No books to
study true
No condemning
sermons from
the everlasting
Jew
And since
His love
is only for
the chosen
and the few
I think I'll pass
on Sunday Mass
I've better things
to do

#7
Galileo’s castrated
brilliance shackled
to an empty cross
as demonic paramours
burn in the city square

#8
Rest assured
the herd will
follow the absurd
proclamations’
and the institution's
philosophical solution
to the daily grind
that binds us all
to this stalled
morality we
have mistaken
for God

#9
'Peace on earth
and love thy neighbor'
Cried the man with
cross and saber
Even as he slaughtered
millions for the crime
of pagan birth

#10
Cups and saucers
filled with gold
but not a cent
may we behold
for we are not
among the few
selected by the
ancient Jew

All sin begins
with *******
leading to ***,
birth and life on
earth, but somehow
(if we believe the pew)
all but a single Jew
are born in sin while
forgiveness is reserved
for the picks of the herd
trampling slothful runts
beneath ***** and sweaty
***** on their way up the
Holy ladder to salvation's
elusive shore where matter
and spirit become one in
the Son's immaculate vision
of the united division of
imperfect man.
Meanwhile, we lesser beasts
are cursed with damnation
eternal both on earth and the
infernal regions until the season
of the Jew's expected return.

Burn it all...

It's *******.

The way to bliss is a line
chiseled through the abyss
of time leaving sublime
characters to stumble
through the twilight of
autumn’s unadorned
years.
Fear and apprehension
wreak havoc on time’s
sublime reclamations
Geseme‘s tranquil breeze
failed to ease the suffering
of the Christ while his
cross is behind the loss
of humanities ability to
coexist.

Perhaps atonement will
come with the sunrise.

A bitter poison spiked with the blood of a
thousand sages ebbs in a chalice at the foot
of the altar.

These soft ripples guide fools the way to oblivion.

Liquid solitude cascades over the parishioners
leading many to believe in the myth of inner
peace.
By morning all will grasp reality for a transitory
instant, cursing their miserable lives while praying
in earnest for autumn's obscure redemption.

By nightfall, they will return to the temple...

Every now and then I wonder why
our God should be found under
steeples made of stone and mortar
heedless of our sad despair
It seems to me He should awaken
In the hearts of those forsaken
(and by the way this condemnation
seems to be a bit unfair)

It wasn't I who in the garden ate the
fruit and begged His pardon
Bringing forth such pain and sorrow
to this world so long ago
I think it simply far from normal
that a God who stands on formal
etiquette and rules of order should
forgiveness not bestow

A God so fond of preaching mercy
Through each member of His clergy
Every Sunday without fail should
perhaps His own words heed
For if this world and all its sorrow
Is to see a bright tomorrow
Then we must create a garden
where no child or Savior bleeds

I tried so very hard you see
to accept Christianity
To believe that snakes in apple trees
can talk to maidens pleasantly
And a God that is both one and three
makes little sense mathematically

But the faithful ones insist that I
should never try to verify
‘Accept it all and don’t ask why
That’s how a Christian should comply’
But really I don’t think that I
can this dogma truly buy

But do not look so ill at ease
uncertainty is no disease
And even though we don't agree
it makes no difference to me
I simply, simply cannot be
a fan of Christianity

But now I see I’ve made you cry
please let it go and dry your eyes
There really is no reason why
So let me try and clarify
We simply don’t see eye to eye
on all the things we both decry

And now my rhymes are running low
but I’ve only got four lines to go
So I think it would be apropos
to end this dog and pony show
And to paraphrase the great Thoreau:

‘When we forget our learning, we’ll begin to know’



And now my friends, I have to go : )

Nothing to do with shampoo bottles, empty or otherwise I'm afraid. Just some rambling nonsense from an over stressed imagination.


Sitting alone
listening to
tunes Lennon
never lived to write
I find the sight of
sunlight streaming
through the blinds
quite depressing

I'm guessing I should
say **** it and pull
the trigger but the
bigger picture looms
large before me

The contemporary
decay of society
more than I can
tackle at this crackling
moment of existence
but tomorrow after all,
is another day.

Look at that!
Three choppy
little verses all
much too sad to
ignore
(leading now
to number four)

Hey, how bout a joke?
An Irish bloke walks
past a pub...

What? It could happen

Blimey, me rhymes
a sodden mess.
I guess I'll hang it up
for the night and fight
the great fight in the
morning. If you've
read this far, you've
got my gratitude.

(And sympathy)

Lying in the shadow
of a harvest moon
Soon sleep will be
upon me and I will
meander between
dream and nightmare
until mighty Helios
rises in the eastern
sky to drag me from
a lover’s passionate
embrace or calamities
indifferent layer.
Dream and nightmare
They do not vanish
with the waking sun
All of life is but a
delusional vision
of the psyche
A mirage conjured from
the essence of our souls
true understanding of
reality.

Few outside the
temple or asylum
understand this...

My years spent
kneeling before
Holy words
amounted to naught
but absurd notions
of divinity.
Wasted time
lost to eternal
ignorance.
Better I had  spent
the time on the sublime
ramblings of Nietzsche
or Thomas rather than
the insane promise of
divinity’s celestial return

Wake up children.
The night has passed
and at last we are free
to hurl ignorance back
into the void from which
it came.

The game is on
It's called life
Go and play

When the world seems
too heavy
And my back is breaking
from the load
I look off in the distance
but see no lights upon
the road
Well it all just kind of ended
before I knew it had begun
I'm tired of this darkness
and the shadows on the sun

Life is never easy
and death is always
hard
I look up at the dealer
as he passes me a card
I slip it in my pocket
and I walk out in the yard
The moonlight looks so jaded
and it pays me no regard

Salvation in a bottle
Liberation in a glass
The God who made
the flowers put the
serpent in the grass
I guess the way it
happens is the way
it's supposed to be
Heaven is for certain…

If you never disagree.

Winds of unknowing
blowing through
my tattered memory
A clamorous howl
wailing in desperation
for understanding and
forgiveness
The well of compassion
dry and void of mercy
while realities fragile
tether long since severed
is left unattended to blow
madly in the tempest
of a meandering
insanity

We're watching
and we’re waiting
and we’re loving
and we’re hating
as the ***** of
greed is slowly
passing by.
Every thief and
every banker lifts
a frosty mug to
thank her while
the widow wipes
the tear beneath
her eye.
And the politician
smiles as the cash
is stacked in piles
while the price of
crude is soaring
to the sky.
And the folks who
rule the planet take
the whole ****
thing for granite
plucking fiddles
while the children
slowly die

Warning! This poem contains foul language and the subject matter is intended for those who share my warped sense of humor (or humour for my European friends). If you are easily offended or devoutly religious, you should probably skip this one. That said, my apologies to Dr. Seuss.



And all the Hos knew there
was something quite odd
about this strange little
self-professed servant
of God



Father Xmas

Every ** down in Hoville
liked ******* a lot
but the Priest who lived
just north of Hoville did not

The Priest hated *******
(at least with the women)
He much preferred cute
little boys for his sinnin'

Why he was so nasty
and hateful and sly
I guess no one really
could understand why

Some said he was born
with only one ball
Some said that his shorts
were two sizes too small

But whatever the reason
his shorts or his *****
He hated the Hos
both the tall and the small

'When the clocks strike eleven
I know just what they’ll do
They will take off their clothes
and commence a ** *****'

'And they’ll ***** and they’ll *****
till their screwers are sore
Then they’ll all take a break
and start ******* some more'

And the more the Priest thought
of the Hos and their *******
the more the priest thought
'they must stop what they're doing'

'I could call the police
Have them taken to jail'
But the Hos knew good lawyers
and would quickly make bail

'Then they’d all wander home
and resume the ** *******
They’d resume the ** hand jobs
They’d resume the ** *******'

Then he threw up his hands
and said 'Oh what the Hell!
If I fancied ***** I’d be
******* as well'

So the Priest left the Hos
to their ****** ploys
and he climbed into bed
with two altar boys.

Chapman, gun in hand
Lennon lies shot and bleeding
My world changed that day