Now I sit me down to eat
And this old saw I shall repeat:
If my hands I have not laved
There is no way I shall be saved.
For through my mitts, begrimed by toil,
My soul shall also be made soiled.
This is fact—it’s true, I know,
Because my teachers told me so.
And by this same fine way of thought
I won’t be helping Mom a lot—
For if I “give it all to God”
There’s naught for her. Ah, what a fraud!
But since you ask, I’m not so sure
Such rules have kept my motives pure.
I tend to seek what’s best for me…
And that’s what’s best for you, you see.
But can I possibly believe
Such shams as this the Lord won’t grieve?
The things one eats don’t spoil the man—
That’s all just crap, you understand?
Oh, yes—I see! My heart’s the key!
It’s not my gut shall set me free.
But Jesus says without a doubt
What God don’t plant he’ll sure root out.
I’m just not sure; what does this mean?
I thought that all green plants were clean.
There must be some that God will burn…
And they’re the ones that we should spurn!
What did Jesus mean about
The blonde leading the blonde?
I didn’t get a clear answer