It's only ever that day when it's my turn to be the one that pays on those Saturdays when the chicken lays fourteen Easter eggs and somewhere Peter begs,
'let me go'

Oh jeezus, don't you know we've moved a million miles from the Mount of Ararat and Arafat is dead,
Moses set no fire alarm, the ark was built from plans made in his head, caught light or set afire by some hot town gospel choir and sunk before it sailed,
it seems the ****** failed to float, no new world orchestras, self supporting lace trim bra's, silk lined half price cocktail bars and Saturday is the boat to blame.
we sink to fill ourselves with shame.

Jeezus,
you should have got your dad to build the world a bit less mad, a bit more ground to go around and a lot more love for crazy folk.