Mary lost her precious title
It's stronger than her, it's vital
A serious disagreement with the Bible
At that moment, she considered it a trifle
That is not very catholic of you, my son
Anyways, it was already said and done
An unorthodox practice says the Orthodox church
I see no rings in my future, the present is what I search
My 72 virgins can wait
Living for lust, that's all I infatuate
While I am alive, it's never too late
To demonstrate to her how to conjugate
Father, forgive me for my terrible sin
I mistook the wind for the devil's whisper
But Father, Mother has never raised a quitter
So excuse me while my touch rains on her skin
Presented with cannibalism's fanciest dinner
Lord sees it as a sin but I score it as a win.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem