Of undying adoration, his bride Ken quickly holds
Under chimes of plaster, the church’s bell extols
But vigilant Ken, he eftsoon prays
For humor, health and happy days
A vinyl world of soulless passions
Seeks a God of lesser fashions
For on the knees on which he called
The graceful sinful suitor’s lauds
Are on the knees on which he prays
The Lord of Worlds would not delay
To meet his praise and answer kind
Replies this God, no passions blind:
“Were thy mettles of finer shade,
Nay, for of plastic thou wert made.”