Vicar in a Tutu

I was minding mind business

Lifting some lead off

The roof of the Holy Name church

It was worthwhile living a laughable life

Just to set my eyes on a blistering sight

Of a vicar in a tutu

He's not strange

He just wants to live his life this way

A scanty bit of a thing

With a decorative ring

That wouldn't cover the head of a child

As Rose collects the money in the canister

Who comes sliding down the banister

The vicar in a tutu

He's not strange

He just wants to live his life this way

The monkish monsignor

With a head full of plaster

Said "my man, get your vile soul dry-cleaned"

As Rose counts the money in the canister

As natural as rain

He dances again

My God

Vicar in a tutu, oh yeah

The next day in the pulpit

With freedom and ease

Combating ignorance, dust and disease

As Rose counts the money in the canister

As natural as rain he dances again

And again and again

The fabric of a tutu

Any man could get used to

And I am a living sign