Vicar In a Tutu

I was minding my business Lifting some lead off the roof of the Holy Name church It was worthwhile living a laughable life To set my eyes on the blistering sight Of a Vicar in a tutu, he's not strange He just wants to live his life this way A scanty bit of a thing covered with a decorative ring Wouldn't cover the head of a goose As Rose collects the money in a cannister Who comes sliding down the bannister? Vicar in a tutu, he's not strange He just wants to live his life this way The monkish monsignor with a head full of plaster Said, "My man, get your vile soul dry-cleaned" As Rose counts the money in the cannister As natural as rain, he dances again, my God The Vicar in a tutu, oh yeah Oh yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, ah The Vicar in a tutu, oh yeah Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh The next day in the pulpit with freedom and ease Combatting ignorance, dust with disease As Rose counts the money in the cannister As natural as rain, he dances again and again and again In the fabric of a tutu Any man could get used to And I am the living sign And I am the living sign, I am the living sign I'm the living sign, I am the living sign I'm the living sign, sign, I am the living sign