The Singer: Creator-king, majestic name,
Daily I will praise the same.
For You have set your glory high,
And made man’s wisdom naught but lies.
Man: The baby is a waist and drain,
It can’t survive excessive strain.
It empties pleasures from your wallet,
Abort it. Kill it. Don’t install it.
God: Out of an infant’s mouth proceeds,
A mighty weapon, strong and keen.
I have established strength for those,
And they will still the angry foes.
The baby-blessing is a gift,
They charm the heart – there’s none too stiff.
For with their lips they utter praise,
My kingdom from their kind I raise.
Evilman: The man’s the highest form of life,
And he has caused unending strife.
The world was caused by happenstance,
A jumbled mess of stupid chance.
Righteousman: I see the stars which you have planned,
The moon you hold within your hand.
But you remember lowly man.
You care, and make me all I am.
You crowned this dust with heavenly grace,
Just bellow your own high place.
You gave the earth to him as king,
Dominion over everything:
The sheep, the wolf, the bears, and kye,
The beasts of sea, and birds of sky.
The Singer: These thoughts, O Lord, your mind gave birth.
Your name is mighty o’er the earth.