Presbyterian/Baptist War
- Thread starter Desdichado
- Start date
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Des went huntin'
For a lass soon to wed
But the only ones for him
Are the ones in the morgue, dead
Sure, their shoulders are cold
They skin pastel white
But they won't talk back
When he tells them good night
Their eyes are all set
In rigidness sure
But they won't roll their eyes at him
When to bed he adjourns
He hugs her real close
Gives her a kiss on her cheek
It makes him as happy
As a Star Trek geek
So when all went awry
Des did what he thought was correct
When everything he tried went horribly wrong
He married the girl with the broken neck
For a lass soon to wed
But the only ones for him
Are the ones in the morgue, dead
Sure, their shoulders are cold
They skin pastel white
But they won't talk back
When he tells them good night
Their eyes are all set
In rigidness sure
But they won't roll their eyes at him
When to bed he adjourns
He hugs her real close
Gives her a kiss on her cheek
It makes him as happy
As a Star Trek geek
So when all went awry
Des did what he thought was correct
When everything he tried went horribly wrong
He married the girl with the broken neck
Sovereign Grace showed up
To the church in my story
To see if they'd erupt
And get girls in his jalopy
He strode to the stage
Grabbed a microphone
And in a jealous rage
Yelled "girls follow me home!"
The pastor protested
Laid hands upon Sov's shoulders
But was quickly bested
By Sov's mighty boulders
The ladies swooned
At the sight of pastor pasted
Pledged allegiance to the moon
At the thought of their time wasted
He picked the prettiest one
Walked to his '80 pinto
They drove to Charleston
Married, moved to Mingo
How did he succeed
What is his game?
What benchmark did he meet
To land this noble dame
Unlike the Presby he can sway
Move Pentecostal opinion
For his pastor is a Dispy
And the deacons are Arminian
To the church in my story
To see if they'd erupt
And get girls in his jalopy
He strode to the stage
Grabbed a microphone
And in a jealous rage
Yelled "girls follow me home!"
The pastor protested
Laid hands upon Sov's shoulders
But was quickly bested
By Sov's mighty boulders
The ladies swooned
At the sight of pastor pasted
Pledged allegiance to the moon
At the thought of their time wasted
He picked the prettiest one
Walked to his '80 pinto
They drove to Charleston
Married, moved to Mingo
How did he succeed
What is his game?
What benchmark did he meet
To land this noble dame
Unlike the Presby he can sway
Move Pentecostal opinion
For his pastor is a Dispy
And the deacons are Arminian
The boy stood on the burning deck
Of the proud ship SS Baptist
Now being reduced to wreck
In the blowing Tempest
The captain was a salty star
Who skinned the great white whale
Seized merchants down in Zanzibar
Thru wave, tide, and gale
Till one day their crew awoke
To the crash of distant mortars
The watchman there put out his smoke
Shouted "be to quarters!"
Captain Star was no coward
When bell sounded to alarm
He made his way to starboard
He stood through two straight volleys
Like the battle of the port 'a Goa
Till the main mast snapped in two
Like a pencil made by Ticonderoga
Captain Star lost his mind then
Shouting "Remember the Alamo, Paul!"
As his sails were further rend
To match the collapsing hull
"Who are these salty dogs?
Is it the Royal Navy
Which turns my boat to logs
And blows up all me maties?"
The Star took out his telescope
To see the mighty foe
Grabbed upon the nearest rope
To take their ship and mo
His rope hand went limp
Through smoke he saw our flag
A waving Celtic cross
O'r a bucking stag
"Hold your fire boys!
Forget our fighting motto
Our cannons are as toys
Before Captain Desdichado"
Of the proud ship SS Baptist
Now being reduced to wreck
In the blowing Tempest
The captain was a salty star
Who skinned the great white whale
Seized merchants down in Zanzibar
Thru wave, tide, and gale
Till one day their crew awoke
To the crash of distant mortars
The watchman there put out his smoke
Shouted "be to quarters!"
Captain Star was no coward
When bell sounded to alarm
He made his way to starboard
He stood through two straight volleys
Like the battle of the port 'a Goa
Till the main mast snapped in two
Like a pencil made by Ticonderoga
Captain Star lost his mind then
Shouting "Remember the Alamo, Paul!"
As his sails were further rend
To match the collapsing hull
"Who are these salty dogs?
Is it the Royal Navy
Which turns my boat to logs
And blows up all me maties?"
The Star took out his telescope
To see the mighty foe
Grabbed upon the nearest rope
To take their ship and mo
His rope hand went limp
Through smoke he saw our flag
A waving Celtic cross
O'r a bucking stag
"Hold your fire boys!
Forget our fighting motto
Our cannons are as toys
Before Captain Desdichado"
In the hall of my ancestors
There is a mighty weeping
For a soul born Congregationalist
But ended Presbyterian
I'll meet them one day
When my body fails
Together we will pray
And tell each other tales
"Why did you change, my son?
You could have been a baptist
Kept our governing ways
Instead'a joining liturgy fascists"
I told them my story
Saw the look upon their face
That changed from scorn to pity
When I spoke of SovereignGrace
There is a mighty weeping
For a soul born Congregationalist
But ended Presbyterian
I'll meet them one day
When my body fails
Together we will pray
And tell each other tales
"Why did you change, my son?
You could have been a baptist
Kept our governing ways
Instead'a joining liturgy fascists"
I told them my story
Saw the look upon their face
That changed from scorn to pity
When I spoke of SovereignGrace
Des walked into church one Lord's day
He wanted to find the pastor
And with him, his forgiveness pray
And not in any way faulter
But as he past by the very last pew
In the back of the church
He felt a thud upon the seat of his pants
He turned his head to peer and lurch
He let that one pass
And kept walking the aisle
When he past by the very next pew
Another thud on his backside
A fine howdy do
In dire need of pray that day
He let that one go to the wayside
He needed to pray his sins all away
Have them covered under the Christ's crimson tide
He kept making his way to the mourner's bench
In agony, wiping his tears away
When another thump to his rump he felt
He thought he would make that one pay
He stopped in his tracks
Wheeled around and yelled
"What's this kicking all about?
Can't you see I am in torments in hell?"
The girls all snickered
Trying not to blush
For a sign was on Des' back
That said 'Kick me, I am Irish'
He wanted to find the pastor
And with him, his forgiveness pray
And not in any way faulter
But as he past by the very last pew
In the back of the church
He felt a thud upon the seat of his pants
He turned his head to peer and lurch
He let that one pass
And kept walking the aisle
When he past by the very next pew
Another thud on his backside
A fine howdy do
In dire need of pray that day
He let that one go to the wayside
He needed to pray his sins all away
Have them covered under the Christ's crimson tide
He kept making his way to the mourner's bench
In agony, wiping his tears away
When another thump to his rump he felt
He thought he would make that one pay
He stopped in his tracks
Wheeled around and yelled
"What's this kicking all about?
Can't you see I am in torments in hell?"
The girls all snickered
Trying not to blush
For a sign was on Des' back
That said 'Kick me, I am Irish'
The bell rang for round one
Des stepped to the middle of the ring
When a haymaker, right cross and uppercut
Through the air his body did fling
He gets up off the canvass
Wipes the blood from his lip
He charges his foe with reckless abandon
Gets met with a jab,
And down he goes on his hip.
He thinks to himself
"I have to be more careful this time
This boxer is skilled in the sweet science
If I am not careful,
They will put me to silence"
He takes his time as he approaches his foe
They bash his jaw, make his eye swell
Cut down his eye and stomp a toe
Then a one-two left right combo,
He goes down the third time,
the timekeeper rings the bell
The fight was over in less than one minute
Des seemed rather alarmed
"How did this boxer beat me so fast?"
Then through the slit of his right eye
He realized it was that Baptist schoolmarm
Des stepped to the middle of the ring
When a haymaker, right cross and uppercut
Through the air his body did fling
He gets up off the canvass
Wipes the blood from his lip
He charges his foe with reckless abandon
Gets met with a jab,
And down he goes on his hip.
He thinks to himself
"I have to be more careful this time
This boxer is skilled in the sweet science
If I am not careful,
They will put me to silence"
He takes his time as he approaches his foe
They bash his jaw, make his eye swell
Cut down his eye and stomp a toe
Then a one-two left right combo,
He goes down the third time,
the timekeeper rings the bell
The fight was over in less than one minute
Des seemed rather alarmed
"How did this boxer beat me so fast?"
Then through the slit of his right eye
He realized it was that Baptist schoolmarm
Lincoln freed the slaves
His speeches were da bomb
Disunion off he staved
Fulfilled dreams of Uncle Tom
A diviner, no!
He never reached the mantle
Theology was an interest
But not his life's chief battle
I almost chose Reagan
A fine Presby politician
Who felled the Soviet Union
Aided the Great Commission
Perhaps I should have picked him
Lord knows it would go far
To halt commie aggression
Wrought by the Pinko Star
His speeches were da bomb
Disunion off he staved
Fulfilled dreams of Uncle Tom
A diviner, no!
He never reached the mantle
Theology was an interest
But not his life's chief battle
I almost chose Reagan
A fine Presby politician
Who felled the Soviet Union
Aided the Great Commission
Perhaps I should have picked him
Lord knows it would go far
To halt commie aggression
Wrought by the Pinko Star
The star struts his stuff
Air he shadow boxes
Not only is he tough
He can out-run foxes
His fists slice the air
Such is his the speed of glove
With a certain graceful flair
He could fly o'r dove
I followed him once
To the gym and to his castle
See how he trained to pounce
How he learned to wrastle
He donned his yoga pants
Moved his kiester to and fro
Breaking not a sweat
He cartwheeled like a pro
My curiosity hit a spike
What's the secret of my foe?
Behind his mountain bike
A chest of Tai-bo
On VHS
Air he shadow boxes
Not only is he tough
He can out-run foxes
His fists slice the air
Such is his the speed of glove
With a certain graceful flair
He could fly o'r dove
I followed him once
To the gym and to his castle
See how he trained to pounce
How he learned to wrastle
He donned his yoga pants
Moved his kiester to and fro
Breaking not a sweat
He cartwheeled like a pro
My curiosity hit a spike
What's the secret of my foe?
Behind his mountain bike
A chest of Tai-bo
On VHS
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The Presby stood behind the pulpit
To the air he raised his hand
He told the people there
To listen to his commands
He yelled and frothed at the mouth
He took them through Ephesians 3
But then his sermon went south
When he grabbed Mrs. Johnson's knee
There was a hush that stilled the room
The men turned red in the face
The other women grabbed their brooms
As the Presby started to pace
He knew he was in trouble
A Presby in a Baptist place
He knew if he didn't get away
The deacons would mess up his face
He bolted for the door
But was met by Mr. Johnson's fist
He soon came to realize
How hard a Baptist fist is
They picked him up
And tossed him out the door
They kicked him in the ribs
Mrs. Johnson gave him a kick once more
They picked him and placed him on his ride
They handed him his hat
And said the next time they saw him
That day would be his last
That's what happens
When a Presby goes into disguise
For trying to preach a sermon
While at the same time
Grabbing Mrs. Johnson's thighs
So to those Presbys
Who fain to be a Baptist
Put down the liquor and the libido
Put on men's underwear
And not your speedo
And always remember
The Golden Rule
And never covet your neighbor's wife
And from your chin wipe off the drool
May we all say 'Amen'
May we all agree
Never preach a sermon
And grab a married lady's knee
To the air he raised his hand
He told the people there
To listen to his commands
He yelled and frothed at the mouth
He took them through Ephesians 3
But then his sermon went south
When he grabbed Mrs. Johnson's knee
There was a hush that stilled the room
The men turned red in the face
The other women grabbed their brooms
As the Presby started to pace
He knew he was in trouble
A Presby in a Baptist place
He knew if he didn't get away
The deacons would mess up his face
He bolted for the door
But was met by Mr. Johnson's fist
He soon came to realize
How hard a Baptist fist is
They picked him up
And tossed him out the door
They kicked him in the ribs
Mrs. Johnson gave him a kick once more
They picked him and placed him on his ride
They handed him his hat
And said the next time they saw him
That day would be his last
That's what happens
When a Presby goes into disguise
For trying to preach a sermon
While at the same time
Grabbing Mrs. Johnson's thighs
So to those Presbys
Who fain to be a Baptist
Put down the liquor and the libido
Put on men's underwear
And not your speedo
And always remember
The Golden Rule
And never covet your neighbor's wife
And from your chin wipe off the drool
May we all say 'Amen'
May we all agree
Never preach a sermon
And grab a married lady's knee
The Baptist lady's knee
At times I can't resist
I have this ravenous greed
So I'll take that fist
I like my Baptists tall
I like my Baptists curvy
To heed our Master's law
He'll need to put me out with scurvy
But my mother gave me brains
"Son you must be wise
You cannot follow bridal trains
And squeezed those married thighs."
"Gird your loins
Batten down the hatches
Clank not the coins
Strike not the matches"
"Find a Baptist woman
With a measure of taste
One who knows it could be worse
A gal who dated SovereignGrace"
At times I can't resist
I have this ravenous greed
So I'll take that fist
I like my Baptists tall
I like my Baptists curvy
To heed our Master's law
He'll need to put me out with scurvy
But my mother gave me brains
"Son you must be wise
You cannot follow bridal trains
And squeezed those married thighs."
"Gird your loins
Batten down the hatches
Clank not the coins
Strike not the matches"
"Find a Baptist woman
With a measure of taste
One who knows it could be worse
A gal who dated SovereignGrace"
Rip Van Winkle had just been awoken
From his 20 years long nap
By an inquisitive Presby lad
That was setting on his lap
This Presby child was rather curious
He wanted to know things
He acted rather spurious
Wanted to ask Mr. Van Winkle something
"Mr. Van Winkle, how was it
That you slept for 20 long years?
Was it that you worked day and night
Down at the local Sears?"
"No my lad," quipped the grisly looking feller
"It was not that at all, but I'd best not tell'ya."
"Was it then the singing of the saints of God,
Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha Franklin or Frank Sinatra?"
"No, my lad, twas none of them."
"Then was it the singing of Elvis Presley,
Nat King Cole, Perry Como, or Mama Cass Elliott?"
"No, my lad, twas none of them either,
I guess I will tell you, you seem rather insistent."
"It twas not the singing of those greats,
Nor was it even the singing of Ethel Merman.
What caused be to go into a 20 years sleep
Was the preaching of a Presby sermon"
From his 20 years long nap
By an inquisitive Presby lad
That was setting on his lap
This Presby child was rather curious
He wanted to know things
He acted rather spurious
Wanted to ask Mr. Van Winkle something
"Mr. Van Winkle, how was it
That you slept for 20 long years?
Was it that you worked day and night
Down at the local Sears?"
"No my lad," quipped the grisly looking feller
"It was not that at all, but I'd best not tell'ya."
"Was it then the singing of the saints of God,
Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha Franklin or Frank Sinatra?"
"No, my lad, twas none of them."
"Then was it the singing of Elvis Presley,
Nat King Cole, Perry Como, or Mama Cass Elliott?"
"No, my lad, twas none of them either,
I guess I will tell you, you seem rather insistent."
"It twas not the singing of those greats,
Nor was it even the singing of Ethel Merman.
What caused be to go into a 20 years sleep
Was the preaching of a Presby sermon"
Say people have you seen the Baptist with no shirt on his chest
Gone run down the road this mornin', like he gonna 'scape our jest
He seen the smoke way up the river, where the Presby gunboats lay
He took his Bible, run real sudden like he gonna go and pray
The Baptist run, ha ha! The Presby stay ho ho!
And there must be now a kingdom com'n and a year of jubilo
Gone run down the road this mornin', like he gonna 'scape our jest
He seen the smoke way up the river, where the Presby gunboats lay
He took his Bible, run real sudden like he gonna go and pray
The Baptist run, ha ha! The Presby stay ho ho!
And there must be now a kingdom com'n and a year of jubilo
Ahab on the Pequod
Sailing the briny deep
Looking for the gnarly whale
Wanting to sink his harpoon deep
He has had him in his sights
Many times over the years
But each time he got away
Ahab was reduced to tears
"Why can't I get that whale?"
Was the thought going through his mind
"I shot my harpoons many times
But he disappeared in the ocean swell."
"I had him in my sights
I had him in my crosshairs.
I had him dead to rights
But that blasted blubber disappeared!"
He failed to recognize his problem
Was not in the size of his harpoons
But his Boatswain's mates
Were a bunch of Presby goons
Sailing the briny deep
Looking for the gnarly whale
Wanting to sink his harpoon deep
He has had him in his sights
Many times over the years
But each time he got away
Ahab was reduced to tears
"Why can't I get that whale?"
Was the thought going through his mind
"I shot my harpoons many times
But he disappeared in the ocean swell."
"I had him in my sights
I had him in my crosshairs.
I had him dead to rights
But that blasted blubber disappeared!"
He failed to recognize his problem
Was not in the size of his harpoons
But his Boatswain's mates
Were a bunch of Presby goons
