Jake Thackray The Vicar's Missus
Your Worship…
I want to kiss a vicar’s missus,
Your worship, I appeal to you.
I want to kiss a vicar’s missus -
Any old vicar’s missus will do.
I’ve kissed the wives of tax inspectors
Bank managers’ madames galore
The better halves of rent collectors
One little kiss but nothing more, Your Worship
I really need a vicar’s missus
I can’t get it from my mind
It’s not because I am lubricious
I am religiously inclined
Holy Mother Church has felt my onslaught
I’ve chased the wives of clergy all me life
I once embraced a bishop’s consort
That doesn’t count, she wasn’t his wife, Your Worship
I’ve kissed the wives of many a copper
Sergeants, inspectors, plain clothes men
One little peck, nothing improper
It’s not a thing I’d do again
I’ve kissed my way through most professions
Grocers, landlords, aristocracy
I kissed your wife at the petty sessions
Milord you have my sympathy, Your Worship
I really need a vicar’s missus
I shall be rapid and discreet
Without a vicar’s missus’s kisses
My collection is incomplete
It’s not as if I’d loot or ransack
His property, his premises
I’d never knock a vicar’s knick knacks
Just give his wife a little kiss, Your Worship
I once had one within my clutches
At Evensong she puckered me up her lips
I left the vicarage on crutches
Converted by the curate’s crucifix
But when I go to Hell or Hades
I’ll get the answer to my prayer
’Cos all such vicars and their ladies
They’ll all be there, they’ll all be there.
