by Steven Brust
(Works to "The Yellow Rose of Texas")
My girlfriend is a Pagan, she don't believe in Christ.
Theologically suspect, but in practice rather nice.
She's been teaching me her favorite fertility rites.
And every time I learn one, I yell out, "Jesus Christ!"
My girlfriend is a Pagan, I truly have been blessed.
I don't mind the pentagrams, or the lack of rest.
We've been doing all we can to see the crops don't fail;
If when I die I meet with Pan I'll shake him by the tail.
My girlfriend is a Pagan, I guess she is a witch.
She prays to her Goddess while wearing not a stich.
She says incense and crystals give her mystic energy,
And she has to use it somewhere, which works out best for me.
My girlfriend is a Pagan, who could ask for more?
At the altar she's a heathan, in the bedroom she's just fine.
I'm happy as a pig in shit, what more can I say?
My girlfriend is a Pagan, and I'm learning how to pray.
(c) 2002 by Steven Brust