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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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