She sat in the front pew at each single Mass,
A beacon of Christian propriety.
The sun streamed in strongly between the stained glass
And bathed her in translucent piety.
Suffused in the sunlight, she prayed for her needs,
Imploring her Saviour to answer.
Every day she was there with her rosary beads,
But all that she got was skin cancer.
A beacon of Christian propriety.
The sun streamed in strongly between the stained glass
And bathed her in translucent piety.
Suffused in the sunlight, she prayed for her needs,
Imploring her Saviour to answer.
Every day she was there with her rosary beads,
But all that she got was skin cancer.
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