On his luxury ranch
In the grandiose mansion
In the TV preacher’s
Gilded chapel
Billionaire Pat gives thanks to the Lord
Of internet banking and taxfree donations
Pat closes his eyes in meditation
On the golden words of the Wallstreet Journal
The sacred text so black and white
He’s got a way with words
And a diamond-cut smile
Pat Robertson
He says
“Adam Insane has a tail and horns,
And all his crooked brethren are the devil’s spawn.”
Pat claps his hands as they drop the bombs
He says “Armageddon – bring it on!”
With a pointed stick
And an Iraqi map
Talking to generals: tap, tap, tap.
How many heathens did you kill?
See how war
Gives an old man thrills.
Hey, what’s that you say, Mr Robertson? Jesus loves your wicked grin
Eyes shut tight as he prays to his teacher
I smell sulphur from the farting preacher.
How many children did you kill
As you cast your pearls of hate and ill?
Lord do not forgive him
He knows what he does
Like just another maggot from Beelzebub
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