| Heh heh heh. There was a priest at my church when I was a teenager who used to play that song on the piano and sing along at church parties. Having him around was rather like having a church run by a Polish version of Friar Tuck (minus the drunkenness). The man knew more jokes than anyone I've ever met, and about half of them cracked on the Church. He danced the Irish dances on St. Pats and the Mexican dances on Cinco de Mayo and the Feast Of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and carried a squirt-gun under his vestments in case someone snored. His humour and humanity made him very popular with the parish, although you can imagine that they grated on his superiors. Magnificent man. Thanks for reminding me of him. |