I'm a Tolerant Man

I don't mind blokes who digs or stokes,
Who fettle or work on derricks.
I can even stand a German band,
But I draw the line at clerics.

Chorus:
Now strike me pink, I'd sooner drink,
With a cove sent up for arson,
Than a rain-beseeching preaching screaching
Blankly cranky parson.

I snort and jibe at the whole of the tribe,
Whatever their sect or class is,
From longsleeved ranters to curbstone canters
From bishops to Army lasses.

Give me blaspheming, scheming, screaming,
Barracking football garcons, 
In preference to the reverent crew,
The blithering blathering parsons.