by Nick Gisburne
My only son, you came, you saw, you failed
Your mission: to deliver peace on Earth
Beyond the point of rescue, you were nailed
I’m calling that a wasted virgin birth
Your sister seems to have a better grasp
Of how the human psyche really works
I’m giving her a pretty poison asp
Messiahs always love their little quirks
Christina, make the whole of Heaven proud
My omnipresent eyes are all on you
Your Father, in the comfort of his cloud
Is confident you’ll make a great debut
I thought a girl would last a week at least
I’m starting to despise the Middle East
