Little purple panties touched with lace and trim
Have replaced the garments that were, oh, so grim
My lady bits are covered and so why, why ,why
Did they say I never should give them a try?
He can't find time to talk to me
He's my bishop!
He's just a branch on my family tree
He's my bishop!
I do not even know his name
Though our chins are just the same
He was my dad but now he's saying,
He's my bishop!
Sung to the tune of "I Am Like a Star"
I am like a blight on my family,
A blemish for the whole ward to see.
Just because I think,
The gospel has a stink,
They think that the stink comes from me.
Sung to the tune of "I Have Two Little Hands"
I have two little boobs swaddled snugly and tight
Amidst layers of fabric all snowy and white
During all the long hours from one day to the other
My poor little boobies are never uncovered
