Mysterious Ways

“God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform”

And, oddly, too his sheep can stray

A little from the norm.

Take that one, in the pew behind,

Who’s munching sweets again,

I wouldn’t want to sound unkind

But, really! He’s a pain.

Or take that chap who never sings,

He’s sitting over there,

The one who’s always dropping things

Or fiddling with his hair.

Take her, the one who looks so proud,

And thinks she’s rather grand,

She talks too much and sings too loud.

Such people should be banned.

That woman there, whose restless child

Makes such a dreadful noise,

I must confess he gets me riled

Playing with his toys.

The curate too can get me down,

With his incessant smile,

I sometimes long to see him frown

And mutter something vile.

They’ll send me to an early grave.

They leave me in a daze.

It’s just as well I don’t behave

In such mysterious ways.