This tithing lark is painful
It does not do the trick
Instead of feeling peaceful
It's weighing like a brick
I know I should be giving
Be cheerful with my alms
But all I get is misery
Complete with sweaty palms.
Do not fear, untrusting child
My bank is overflowing
I will keep you all afloat
No debt will you be owing
Give to Me as you feel fit
You'll get a nice surprise
A supernatural flow of grace
To open up your eyes.
