The name is Robb , The Reverend Robb
And saving all Souls my Appointed job.
For on many occasions whenever at hand
I\'ve done good deeds for my fellow Man.
Let\'s take for instance One Sunny day
In ab crowded \'Bazaar\' down Morocco way;
For in the Heat and Dust I\'ll do my best;
To bring some Balm to those Oppressed.
And it happened that day on my daily walk
Among the piercing Cries and Babbling Talk;
I heard a Voice call out behind;
But in a Crowd I gave no Mind.
And then again into my ear;
From a Putrid Presence Standing near.
\'Dirty Postcards\'\'? He asked of me;
And gave a Wink to Aid his plea.
\'Be-Off with you\' I said to him;
\'You disgusting Fellow Wallowed in Sin\'.
I moved ahead my Temper done;
To forge at pace into the throng.
But soon enough and Low and behold;
He was back once more for his Mission bold.
\'Dirty Postcards\' he hissed again;
For there appeared no ending to his Shame.
\'Please leave at once or I\'ll call the Law\';
\'I\'m a Man of the Cloth I\'ll have you know\'.
And with that said he slinked away
To seek some other innocent Prey.
But not to long he was at my side;
And said once more with Lecherous Pride;
\'Dirty Postcards My dear Friend\'?
\'All guaranteed to much Offend\'.
It was at this point I was dearly Vexed;
The Man was a Nuisance; overly Sexed.
So I turned at once and held him fast;
To put an end to this torturing task;
But seeing his eyes were Pity-full and Sad -
I sold him those Postcards he needed so bad.