Well, it’s Sunday morning
and someone said to me,
“Why aren’t you in church
I sat and thought a spell,
and I poured myself a drink.
I said, “Church ain’t about love,
It’s got less than what you think.
It ain’t about paying tithes
or listening to the word.
It ain’t about the preacher man
or his hypocritical herd.
Christianity and the church
thanks to man are now obscene,
how can the Lord’s work
get done by those who are unclean?
The Reverend, just last night,
pinched me on my ass!
And a married man is he,
but he pinched me, bold as brass.
Guess where the married deacon was,
and I’ll give you a little hint.
He was on his knees all night,
giving head to a well-hung gent.
Now, I’m not one to judge
and I sin and come up short,
but church folk revile the devil,
when with him, they do cavort.
No, I’ll not be sitting in church
with those good ole Christian folk.
Just a taking in a scripture or two,
’cause it’s all just one big joke.
Now let me tell you something,
drive by the local motel,
on any Saturday night
and see the Christians reveling like hell.
Then on Sunday morning,
they’re all so pious and calm.
And then next Saturday night,
they ain’t thinking ’bout the 23rd psalm.
Shelby I. Courtland
©2018 Shelby I. Courtland