Bamboozled, and on a Sunday
There are always biddies and busybodies
in a congregation - acting as spies for the devil.
It’s celestial intelligence, meddling minions
to insure the message is muddled, called out
before the match catches, Lacryma Christi!
The witnesses stand silent,mouths agape.
The end is nigh, and always has been,
(truth be told we never had a say at all).
You, Lucy? And Ethyl, long suffering,
the same sprinkled dirt now covers both of you.
Those expecting more will be sorely disappointed,
while the rest of us suspected nothing all along.