Fear it's a long time since I read The Book,
Maybe years have passed since I took a look.
Faked a novena while I dreamed of beer.
I'm a Sunday jock—well, I watch TV, a
Papal backslider, papal backslider.

I drink thirteen Stolis; I'm a thirsty man;
My nondrinking wife doesn't understand.
Some Sundays I will make a Rusty Nail.
With a heady Scotch that I just inhale, a
Papal backslider, papal backslider.

I hang out with Unitarians and Jews;
All the former talk about is right-wing coups.
When I get the hunger on Friday, I smile
As I dig into big steaks stacked in a pile, a
Papal backslider, papal backslider.

And I gotta admit, I don't feel contrite
Those wafers are doughy; I won't take a bite.
And the wine is watery—give me a beer
I needed a break from the Rosary, a
Papal backslider, papal backslider.