When Gods Aren’t Enough

The Lord had a son.

Sent the son-of-a-gun

Sent him down here to run.

But the work he had done

Was never, ever done!

We redid, we redid, we redid it!

But the work wouldn’t stick.

Even laid it on thick!

With lightning and thunder!

Threats of tossing asunder

A bus, any bus, so watch out we did.

And no one did kid

Themselves…

It was all up to luck now.

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