Can God be praised, extolled, adored
Via the jangling of a harpsichord?
Of course He can, He is the Lord,
Of music which can’t be ignored,
Joyful, Hebrew, self assured.
I think he’s probably made bored
By piano playing badly flawed,
With touchy feelings sad and deeply poured
Excreted via pores and pawed,
By someone wet and overawed
And narcissistic, self absorbed.
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