Twas the Night Before Sunday Law


(system) #1

This was forwarded to me. Thus far, no one has been able to track down the author beyond the handle, Freeatlast. -AC

Twas the night before Sunday Law, when all through the sect Not a creature was stirring among the elect The tithe envelopes were placed near the chimney with care Because withholding the tithe, well, no one would dare!

The children were nestled all snug in their beds While the youthful scourge of self-abuse caved in their heads And Ma in her reform dress and I in my cap Had just settled down for our very last nap

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter I sprang from my knees to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash Tore open the shutter and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow Gave the luster of midday, like the 4th commandment halo When what to my wondering eyes did appear But a miniature mobile, and the Pope I did fear

With a little old driver, and his Christ on stick I knew in a moment Sabbathkeepers were up a crick More rapid than eagles his followers they came And he whistled and shouted and called them by name

On Serpent! On Dragon! On Babylon! On Mary!

On Beast! and his Image! (Could this get any more scary?!)

As gluten and soy make the stomach cramps start And cause gas in the bowels to erupt a great fart So up to the housetop the apostates they flew With a Popemobile full of former Adventists, and Mr. Pope too

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The Pope and the Devil, who appeared in a *poof* As I drew in my head and was turning around Down the chimney old Antichrist did bound

He was dressed all in white from his mitred head to his cloven feet Looking for those who refused to eat meat. A bundle of weapons he had flung on his back And I knew that his followers soon would attack.

His eyes gleaming evil, on his brow Six-Six-Six Why this must be the Antichrist, up to his tricks! With a wink of his eye, and a twist of his head His Masonic gang signs gave us reason to dread

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work Took the tithe from the envelopes, that non-Adventist jerk! And laying his finger aside of his nose He signaled the Masons, probation must close.

He sprang to his Popemobile, to his followers gave a shout “Kill all of the Adventists, let God sort ‘em out!” And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight “Merry Christmas to all unless you follow Ellen White!” ___ h/t Daneen Akers


This is a companion discussion topic for the original entry at http://spectrummagazine.org/node/2051