I've heard of a secular priest
Who counted beads on a string
Kneeling by a pillar
Looking down at the sinners.
And they sung and they laughed and they drunk
And spilled red wine on the pews and the rugs
And cut fingers on Stained glass windows
And trailed blood on His broken bones.
And the ****** cried as they smeared her face
And saw red through broken window panes
And tears mixed with blood and blood turned to wine.
And so they drunk and they laughed And they sung
And the sun spilled red on the pews and the rugs
And a sinner wobbled to the pillar
To ask  forgiveness
Of a priest
With a fistful of beads
Who knocked his teeth
right
in.