Fussy minds gaga at this fuzzy quirk
Seems a pretty tingling tell to be told
Death in waterloo with a Jewish freak
what a peekaboo for babies breast old

It barked! Cracked! smacked! Like thunder
Cuddling the bystanders to a druggie slumber
Like over-lactated baby bulls they drool
As he rose and left cool

Pronto! the maidens ransacked the tomb
Fearlessly unmaidenly they prod probe and comb
Then scurried home in bitter joy to squeal
Death is dead a breaking news for real

Sighting his death the tabernacle veiled severed
On rising the tomb baring bars debarred
Oh! What a pregnant puzzle or something
So significant! So symbolic! So sobering

So let’s laden the wind with halleluia shouts
blaze up our minds of thomasie flabby doubts
Heretofore we were brutes yes! bald brutes
But the death of death bore us rosy fruits