So I'm sitting at Bishop Of Rome the other SPCK, having a quite cup of
Matthew Three. I've just lit the Midnight Mass to make a piece of
Holy Ghost when I hear this strange Choirboys. "What the Church Bell,"
I say to myself, 'cause I thought I was on my Tablet Of Stone in the
Church Mouse. "I'd better go and have a Bishops Crook."
So I go out the Luke Four, and what do I Red Sea but one of my own
Gates Of Hell ringers, naked down to his Collection Box. Only it's
not a bell Pope he's pulling - It's my own Holy Water, right there on the
Lord is my Shepherd skin rug.
"Get off her, you dirty Parish Priest," I scream, and I'm just about to
kick him in the Choir Stalls when he get's up and looks me in the
Mordecai.
"Hang on Rev," he says, "you've got it all Evensong. I've got this weak
Jacobs Ladder, see, and I was busting for a Blessed Is He. I thought
rather than get your West Door all Peters Net. I'd better stick my
Bishopric somewhere it wouldn't make a Deaconess."
"What kind of Sunday School do you take me for," I tell him, "I don't
Adam And Eve a word of it."
"Well, to tell the Story Of Ruth," he says, "maybe I am a bit out of
Holy Order. I know I should have brought her a bunch of Holy Moses first."
"Holy Moses?" I shout, "Diocese off before I shove a bunch of Paul's
Epistle up your And It Came To Pass before you can count to Three Wise
Men."
Well he was Day Of Rest and out the God's Law without even stopping to
comb his Lord's Prayer. The Land Of Milk And Honey thing is, I'd always
thought he was a Mother Mary."
