The Vicar Thinks He's Elvis
Evening mass has ended
The congregation are going home
The vicar smiles as he locks the door
He's going to let his hair down now that he is on his own.
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Evening mass has ended
The congregation are going home
The vicar smiles as he locks the door
He's going to let his hair down now that he is on his own.
His belly's getting bigger,
And his hair is turning white.
His eyes shine and sparkle
Like the stars on Christmas night.
When demons pick at my troubled mind
And the passage to sleep becomes harder to find,
I close my eyes, turn out the light
And listen to the music of the night.
Grandma's on the dancefloor
Shaking what she's got.
If it don't shake, it wobbles,
And boy, does it wobble a lot.
Back in the day when we were young,
Risking our necks on some great adventure,
Others would mock our idea of fun,
Telling tall tales or hiding Gran's dentures.