[Spoken intro — sweetly, over a wheezing chord] Mother always said honesty would open doors. She was less specific about being shown them. [Verse 1 — Detention] At eighteen, in detention, with a week of school to go, The principal said, “Judith, there’s a thing I need to know. Your grades are quite impressive, but your record is a fright. You cannot build a future out of every Friday night. What are you doing with your life? Have you a single clue?” I said, “Of course. The short version should take a line or two.” [Chorus — bright, proud, entirely unhelpful] I like to drink, I like to smoke, I like to FUCK. I’ve other little hobbies, but those three keep coming up. I say “please,” I write thank-yous, I’m kind to little ducks— But nobody remembers that. They only hear the “FUCK.” [Spoken — innocent] You did ask. [Spoken — principal, then Judith] “That attitude won’t get you into university.” “No, but it’ll get me through it.” And then I locked the door. [PatchCordian flourish] [Verse 2 — Confession] Years later, in confession, I slipped in behind the screen. The priest said, “Judith! It’s been years. How wicked have you been?” “What have you to confess?” he asked. “Speak freely. Don’t be shy.” “Are we discussing things I’ve done—or things I’d like to try?” He rubbed his brow. “The main offences. Those that spring to mind.” I said, “Oh, an abridged edition! Father, you’re too kind.” [Chorus — bright, proud, entirely unhelpful] I like to drink, I like to smoke, I like to FUCK. I’ve other little hobbies, but those three keep coming up. I say “please,” I write thank-yous, I’m kind to little ducks— But nobody remembers that. They only hear the “FUCK.” [Spoken — through the grille] You did ask. [Spoken — priest, then Judith] “Ten Hail Marys. And a promise not to do it again.” “Father… let’s not add lying.” And then I locked the confessional. [Instrumental — a hymn briefly attempts to become a polka] [The polka wins] [Verse 3 — The Pearly Gates] When that day finally came, the pearly gates came gleaming into view. Archangel Gabriel checked his list and murmured, “Oh. It’s you.” “Your sins are all forgiven. Step inside, my dear. What will you miss about your life once you’re residing here?” I eyed the spotless halos and the polished marble floor. “Oh, Gabriel. I’ve had this little interview before.” [Final chorus — full celestial cabaret] I like to drink, I like to smoke, I like to FUCK. I’ve other little hobbies, but those three keep coming up. I said “please,” I wrote thank-yous, I was kind to little ducks— I’m glad somebody noticed that. And not just all the fucks. [Spoken — to Gabriel] The ducks put in a word, did they? [Coda — music tiptoes back in] He said, “We serve a lovely wine.” I said, “That’s one concern.” “And incense fills the halls.” “Well, I do like things that burn.” I peered around his shoulder at a harpist passing by, Then straightened up my halo. Gabriel gave a little sigh. [Spoken — suddenly very interested] “Is the harpist single?” [Long pause] “No... but -I- am.” then the archangel escorted me inside. [Final sung tag — triumphant] I like to drink, I like to smoke, I like to FUCK— Oh, heaven! I might be in luck. [One enormous PatchCordian chord]
