The Dual Priest

And here I am, you thankless whore I have been with you once before you may not be the lowest scum I may not look, to you, the bum. I have no mores and love you whores your perspiration fills my pores the shrink said I was seeking pain and for my soul I should abstain. I cannot help myself in this so come and give me a whore's kiss. Said he, who stood on purple pulpit and with the choir boys would gulp it, the wine, the blood of God's own son he took the money, thought he'd won the nationwide gold lottery it gave him licence to be free and in the dark of night he climbed up to the room where often chimed the clock made in Bavarian village it also was part of his pillage. For many years he led a life without a true, official wife. But God sent pangs of consciousness into his mind in bitterness, he wanted him to pray and think instead he traded God for drink.