The Whore of Babylon (to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic), by Kell Hicks

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Whore,

Shit-faced on twist-top wine She lifted from a truck-stop store,

She hath sheathed Her tenth sword of the day, although Her pussy’s sore,

Her cooch is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Her cooch is marching on.

I have seen Her take a dick in every orifice that’s damp;

She’s unloaded more cum than She’s taken on Her rose tramp stamp;

She was with me once; She rode me laughing ‘til we both got cramps;

Her ‘tang is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Her ‘tang is marching on.

I have licked all on a fiery bush until its floodgates spilled;

As I ate Her, She did slob the knob with superhuman skill;

Let this Hero, let this woman drink until She’s drunk her fill;

Since She’s got Her bone on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Since She’s got Her bone on.

She has sounded, “I’m a strumpet, gimme all your rigid meat!”

She is sifting out the hearts of men before Her judgment seat;

Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Her! Be jubilant, my feet!

Our God is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Our God is marching on.

With the beauty of a lily She was born to shoot her skeet;

With a glory in Her bosom that transfigures you and me;

As She lives to fill her holes, let us deliver what She needs;

When She’s got a bone on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! When She’s got a bone on.

She is coming like the glory of the dawn upon the waves;

She has pissed upon the mighty, She has pegged the ass most brave;

So the world shall eat Her stools, and horny souls shall be Her slaves;

Our Whore is marching on.

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya!

Glory! Glory! She gon’ do ya! Our Whore is marching on.

Statement from the artiste: I claim no copyright to this beauty. If any singer-songwriter (Screentime, I gesture in your general direction), country band (looking at you, Hiram, you gorgeous motherfuckers), or rapper (Kod3x, I see you, and I wink) wants to turn this into song, have at it. You won't get any Cease-&-Desists from me.