There's no paper on Sunday, God don't read that day.
He's watching the preachers,while they all play.
His Radios off and he sits with a grin,
hearing pipe organs and biblical hymns.
He's reading glasses sit right on his chest,
in golden slippers his feet they do rest.
The angels all know not to knock on his doors,
he's watching his children and all he adores.
Daydreaming of more beauty to come,
the rock of ages lay under his thumb.
He sifts through the prayers from the temples below,
He jots in his guild the ones that he knows.
He's exalted with love from believers below,
yet he still loves the ones that don't even show.
He's always beside you, you don't know he's there,
his very existence is closer than air.
Satan and God relax on this day,
who wants to work all the time and never have play.
Jesus is out feeding the flock,
after he's done he's taking a walk.
He'll stroll by the rivers of silver and gold,
remembering the stories to man he once told.
With the carpenters nails and the boards from the ark,
He'll place stars in rooms that are very dark.
He's building mansions in heaven for me and for you.
He'll knock on your door when they are through.
You won't have to buy one believe me my friend,
there won't be any taxes he's paid for your sin.
In this home there's heavenly air,
the Great Speckled bird has his own chair.
All of your loved ones that came before you,
pitched in with Jesus from nothing to do.
The treasures they stored in heaven above,
out fits the mansions with all that you love.
Now in Heaven it's done like on Earth down below,
they play all the music there's a song that you'll know.
Jesus puts on the feast when it's time,
Three women cook and the meal is quite fine.
Every one prays before they do eat,
then they set on the benches and say pass the meat.
Jesus toasts wine from the Holy Grail,
It restores their faith and strengthens the frail.
After the meal Jesus says blow the horn.
Then he sails away on the Black Unicorn.

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