Poor Pilgarlic

I wonder if before I die, The price of booze would get so high That I could not afford to drink. But only have to sit and think, Intoxicating thoughts.

I go the Go bus Everyday. To the city Faraway. I always seem to get there When. It is time to Go back home Again

I met these guys from some true religion And they told me how they were saved How they were saved by the light of their lord Jesus Christ! They told me Over and over again they told me. Their eyes lit up, They kissed clutched, spewed each others words, With anxious anticlimax. From what were they saved? These poor crucifix fixated christians. I wish there was a christians anonymous. Some quiet way to save me, from their salvation.