The Song of the New Jesus

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All the fat and shiny preachers From their pulpits say:."Time has made a great improvement In our Lord today.Once he preached a foolish sermon Praising peace and love;Now he wears a colonel's khaki And a mailéd glove.."

Here comes Jesus, lowly Jesus, Riding on a battleship:."Rule Britannia." in his pocket, Pistols on his hip.Simon Peter, happening near, Turns and says to me:."Gadzooks, how the Lord has changed Since old Gethsemane.."

Jesus led the English forces Or the bishop lied,Jesus drove the Prussian horses (Gad! How he could ride!).He went out with every army, Driving this and that;Russian, German, French and English: What an acrobat!

."Blessed are the meek,." said Jesus, In the days of yore;Now he stands in nave and pulpit Urging men to war.Long ago He cried to Peter: ."Put away your sword.."Now he leads His hosts to battle: He's a fickle Lord.

Once He said: ."Resist not evil.." (Did He speak in fun?)Now he favors sword and shrapnel, Bayonet, gas and gun.Once, all nations saw sweet pity On His sorrowed face.Now he keeps his love exclusive For some favored race.

Here comes Jesus, lowly Jesus, Riding on a battleship:."Rule Britannia." in his pocket, Pistols on his hip.Simon Peter, happening near, Turns and says to me,."Gadzooks, how the Lord has changed Since old Gethsemane.."

© MacDonald Wilson Pugsley