That it Should Come to This

That it should come to this

When Jesus returned to this Earth
He looked liked Colin Firth
Lips &; eyes alive in mirth
But surprisingly a rotund girth

When asked do all people have worth?
Whether high born, mid or serf?
Sod the honest richness of turf?
Did he approve of souxiant neuf?

Why pick He this time to return?
When so much left for men to learn
While many wring their hands and yearn
Whole populations burn

The measure isn't what you earn
It's have you done your (good) turn
Those duties you conspire to spurn
Your agenda set to adjourn

What is our purpose here?
Is it to juxtapose hope and fear?
Gather knowledge 'till the toil brings a tear?
Pretending you've read all Shakespeare?

Will you be our Daily Seer?
Informing when Death is near?
Will you give us a guiding steer?
So we approach Death from the rear?

And as upon our Death we creep
(Don't let him grip throat while we sleep)
And as out of Death's grip we leap
Back on to the human scrap heap

Were we put on this world to weep?
All that is learnt we cannot keep
A learning curve so frighteningly steep
We learn from what we sow we reap

Seeking evidence from the past
About the time the die was cast
Was the Universe one big blast?
Is our civilisation the last?

At Lent we're required to fast
Avoid all pleasurable repast
It seems no-one took the time to ask
The current value of this pointless task

In this loveless, Godless world
With its culture of "Me!" unfurled
Only cats and the like stay curled
Whilst insults and bombs are hurled

Man's Colt revolver handle pearled
Is pointed at Miss World
Blame it on the girl
For making all men's head's whirl

Now Lord, some solutions please
We're in it up to the knees
Don't want consequences or fees
Or our consciences to appease

The hurricane from the sneeze
The wise and wily old men wheeze
Demolishing yet more trees
Make dollars with most ease

Lord, will you agree to the interview?
Put a wrong right or two
Asked instead for his showbiz view
Favourite colour: blue

Moronic questions on cue
From the back room production crew
Increase viewing figures by a few
That's daytime TV for you

You came down here once before
And laid down God's Holy Law
Forgetting one tiny flaw
At being good we're all very poor

All we simply want is more
Self-satisfied greed galore
Self-sacrifice a total chore
Modern parables plainly bore

And if you're the perfect Man-God
Why the expanded bod?
Overdoing battered chips and cod?
You're a bit of a fat old sod

We will listen instead to Rod
An authentic, rock vocal god
You may think this rather odd
But we respect most the larger wad

But thanks for coming back
Didn't mean to go on the attack
It's just we no longer lack
All the wisdom in your sack

Though you might feel our morals slack
How we exist to make a stack
Make sure we get the greater whack
And the full accessory pack

Your simple values are phoney
New Testament re-written by Tony
It's about cash to buy daughter a pony
And the lad the latest Sony

But as you're Holy, I'm down on one knee
To test your foresight ability
I ask you with no ties, strictly no fee
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