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. With a decorative ring. That wouldn't cover the head of a goose. As Rose collects the money in a cannister. Who comes sliding down the bannister ?. The 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 says. "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. The next day in the pulpit. With Freedom and Ease. Combatting ignorance dust and 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'm a living sign. I am a living sign. I'm a living sign. I am a living sign. I'm a living sign. Sign .... I am a living sign