The Chinese Clistian

I am the Chinese Clistian, each week I see the pliest

Upon the Hory Altar when I am on my knees

Oh prease let me be flortunate I play with all my might

I’m off to pray at rourette at Napolean’s tonight

I’ll wear my lucky shiny suit and if I’m rearry quick

I’ll do my hair with wok oil to make it black and slick

…….

I am the Chinese Clistian,  insclutable I look

For twenty-one or sixty-nine there is no better cook

My drunken Engrish customers they make me show agglession

So I play to God to Bress me when I am in conflession

They shout abruse, the lacists, while I am at my cooking

So I split right in their cully when no one else is rooking

…….

I am the Chinese Clistian----We live in wedded briss

So my famiry have slanty eyes, no need to take the priss

You queue up in my shop at night, you haven’t got a crue

That I’m stir-flying your cats and dogs----a special treat for you

I play “Prease Lorr forgive me these so exotic dishes”

You did it once yourself of course with loaves and little frishes

…….

I am the Chinese Clistian and I am from the East

From somewhere quite near Blidlington, my blother is a pliest

I put money in correction and one day soon I hope

They’ll make my blother Bishop and maybe someday Pope!

And then I get invlestment back, yes I’ll be re-imblurrsed

By my blother in the Vatican…..Old Chinky Lou the Flirst!

…….

                                            Pc06