I sentence you Jesus to something worse than crucifixion!
No warblers no garblers, no trilling harp backed cheap Sparglers
You’ve had your say now just listen
Well first soften you up with a crowded fruit flingin
Then on Calvary we’ll put you through the skroosprixen
There will be no ankles no hands left, no haired chest, there’ll be no more man left! No cankles no thank yous, no king of the Jews on the news, you’ll rankle and and huff in a chuff, you, oh I hate you, we’ll broil you and soil you and run you right through!
Grab him my minute men, militiamen, my legionaries, my fairies, my fair haired m’ladies with various maladies, and drag him through the shahoosaflem in the midst of Jerusalem, past Barrys and Hillarys to the military’s worst pillories!
And glisten up the sproosprixen! I want it’s gears to be shiny, its shafts to be spiny, make sure it’s dew flaps are spongy, it’s kerfluffins are whiny, it’s rusty and ready and really old timey!
And to make the punishment neat, you’ll walk barefoot through through the street, burdened by billowing wafts of flurd stuffed into a curd, and carry that flurd stuffed curd up the hill while you’re zapped by none other than my friend the Korponuax!
Alright? Now get Jesus out of my sight. I have a headache and it’s been a long night.
I sentence you Jesus to something worse than crucifixion!
No warblers no garblers, no trilling harp backed cheap Sparglers
You’ve had your say now just listen
Well first soften you up with a crowded fruit flingin
Then on Calvary we’ll put you through the skroosprixen
There will be no ankles no hands left, no haired chest, there’ll be no more man left! No cankles no thank yous, no king of the Jews on the news, you’ll rankle and and huff in a chuff, you, oh I hate you, we’ll broil you and soil you and run you right through!
Grab him my minute men, militiamen, my legionaries, my fairies, my fair haired m’ladies with various maladies, and drag him through the shahoosaflem in the midst of Jerusalem, past Barrys and Hillarys to the military’s worst pillories!
And glisten up the sproosprixen! I want it’s gears to be shiny, its shafts to be spiny, make sure it’s dew flaps are spongy, it’s kerfluffins are whiny, it’s rusty and ready and really old timey!
And to make the punishment neat, you’ll walk barefoot through through the street, burdened by billowing wafts of flurd stuffed into a curd, and carry that flurd stuffed curd up the hill while you’re zapped by none other than my friend the Korponuax!
Alright? Now get Jesus out of my sight. I have a headache and it’s been a long night.