Church Music

a poem by Garnet

Oh God, you know I don’t complain
Your patience I would never to strain
But I can’t help wonder’n here below
There’s one thing that I’ve got to know-

Do I have to like church music?

Oh, I don’t mean the classic stuff
I enjoy that kind well enough
The type that’s played by real musicians-
Oh, yeah, to that I’d gladly listen

I’m talkin’ ‘bout on Sunday Morning
When the tone-deaf crowds emerge-
To sing the hymns that’re deadly boring
To the untrained organist’s dirge

They say that he who sings prays twice
But to me it’s such a sacrifice
To join with uninspired voice
And thus contribute to the noise

The music that I like to hear
I’m afraid you won’t allow up there
Unless, perhaps, you think its nice
To allow irreverence, just for spice
And silence the tinkle of angel-harp strings
To sneak in a hint of naughtier things

Just kidding, God
Ha, funny ol’ me

I know that in heaven there will be
Wondrous melodies, flowing like streams
Music beyond our wildest dreams

And yeah, I know it’s not nice to scorn
The time-honored hymns of Sunday morn.