Last Sunday on route to my church br I looked up to the top of a birch, br though the tree pure white br I could see in the light br that a figure was up on a perch. br br No it wasn't a feather-clad bird, br he was brown like the colour of turd, br and one foot had no toes br and black snot marked his nose br I was stunned, and I give you my word br br it was Satan, he aimed his third leg br like an ebony, hairy thin peg, br at the folks who were keen br to be present and seen br and receive a fresh dose of nutmeg. br br Well, whatever they use with the wine br it is God's own command which is fine. br All the folks prayed a lot br and at home they smoked pot, br but on Sundays they did toe the line. br br So the Devil had made an attempt br to have citizens changed to excempt, br that's a status of sin br which the Devil would win br he could hurl at our God his contempt. br br So I stopped and attached a strong rope br to the tree and the people got hope, br with the power of eight br it was wonderful, Mate. br No, the bastard could no longer cope. br br So the tree fell and people just cheered, br but at first it looked strange and appeared br that the Devil had hung br from the lowermost rung br of the heavenly ladder, they feared br br that the fall had not killed him at once br so the townfolks went home for their guns. br But the Devil did die br and they said their good-bye br not aware that the Devil had sons.