Every Sunday, in his church pew,
Sits “old stuffy” and his wife.
But, does he find amusement
In his sober, pious life?
He sees no good in others
And he doesn’t really care.
He’s haughty and he’s puffed-up
Even when he says a prayer.
Sometimes he preaches sermons,
But we’ve heard it all before.
One woman’s head dropped forward
And we heard a fearsome snore!
An iceberg? Yes, quite frozen
With a saintly, pious face.
Those sulky, glowering looks tell you
That you are in disgrace!
His long-term goal is Heaven,
With those other godly folk - - - but
God only lets you through His gates
If you can share a joke!
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