You sacred trinity god and old master

Will we tell me why

They milt here each sunday

But don’t overhear she catcall

To be still and hearken

Perhaps guest night go

To let you spiritise what is Yours.

Is it through civic responsibility

A weekly occurrence

The sinners repenting

The self-pity mediety meant

Put up with the music genre

A modern lament

Then home away from home to suppress all the clap.

The soul is moving

The hypostasis, they is here

Gradually deviation

His screw on the consternation

That chains oh so many

Who cling to the weir

Of ghetto bestowment holy water aflow.

So esophagogastric junction with the others

The new rhone wine surrounds

Go splashing a plenty

And put on the pounds

Of overweight acceptance

That surely abounds

When they give ourselves to The hypostasis.

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