"P. S. GOD"

I don't want to sound 
SiIly, dear God
But I been thinkin' very hard 
'Cos my teacher said 
You made all the world 
And even bits of our back yard, 
But l want to know, do you get dressed up 
On a Sunday and go walking out 
In itchy clothes and squeaky shoes, 
An' if you gerrum mucked up, does the Holy Ghost shout 
Give you a clout? 

I don't want to sound 
Daft, dear God, 
But I been thinkin' quite a lot 
Ever since I pinched 
A penny chew 
From the counter at the corner shop. 
My teacher said that pinchers go to hell 
An' if that's true then I'm sure 
If I'd known then I were going down there 
I'd a pinched a bloomin' sight more than a penny chew - 
I would 'ave 'ad two, or nine, or a few.

I don't want to sound 
Like a big girl's blouse, 
But if you're all that good 
Why don't you stop 
Them big ones at school 
From bashin us likkle ones up? 
Big MuIQueen with his knuckly hands 
Keeps twistin' me arm till I cry, 
So if you won't hit 'im wiv a thunderbolt 
Then make me twice his size, I'll give him two black eyes
Make 'im eat snot pies. 

Well, I don't want to sound 
Stupid, God, 
In this letter I'm sendin' you, 
But does your mam 
Make you eat your cabbage 
Like my mam makes me do? 
I fink cabbage tastes like snot 
And I don't like cabbage an' peas. 
Why did you 'ave to invent that muck 
When you could've made ice cream grow on trees 
'Stead o'dem peas. 

Well, that's really 
All, dear God, 
But P.S. just a minute, 
Last Christmas Day I got a cracker, 
I got a cracker, 
And it 'ad nuffin' in it. 
All the ovver kids got blowers and fings
And they were lettin' um off. 
I don't want to spoil your birfday 
But I fink Santa Clause is rippin' you off, 
Him an' 'is elves, 'elpin demselves.