Sittin' in the front pew, prayin' with the pack;
Fiddlin' with the rosary in my knapsack.
Right after mass, my regular rule:
Fig bars gonna make me go number 2.

Pope is in the boys' room;
Pope is in the boys' room.
Teacher, please conceal me,
'Cuz it's the truth:
Everybody knows the
Pope is into Catholic youth.

Ratzinger retired, all the cardinals were shocked.
Said he's feelin' tired--nah, it sounds like it's a crock.
He showed up here at St. Paul's;
I'll do anything to stay away from his stall.

Pope is in the boys' room;
Pope is in the boys' room.
Teacher, check the hallways
And vestibules;
Everybody knows the
Pope is on the prowl at school.

Well, he shook my hand, made me kiss his ring;
Checked out the choir, and heard us sing;
He heard confession, looked me up and down,
Two hours later you know where he was found:

Pope was in the boys' room.
I tell you that the
Pope was in the boys' room.
No, no, no,
Teacher, don't you make me
Fondle his robe--
Everybody knows his
Junk is eighty-five years old.

Hmmm...everybody:

Pope is in the boys' room.
Pope is in the boys' room.
I swear to you the
Pope is in the boys' room.
Pope is in the boys' room.
Teacher, reinforce the
Cardinal rule:
Everybody knows that
Porkin' ain't allowed at school.

One more...

Pope is in the boys' room.
Pope is in the boys' room.
Ow,
Teacher, don't you drag me
Out by the ear;
Everybody knows that
Popey wants to ride my rear.