Who is this outlandish curate,
Archdeacon? Please do explain!
His preaching fails to conjugate,
And leaves the people in pain!

He turns up late for the service,
Yet he always leaves on time.
He shakes when he takes the chalice,
And he spills the sacred wine!

There are nine pleats on his cassock,
Archdeacon, just five on mine.
And an constant gurg'ling stomach,
Though his singing's rather fine!

Who is this outlandish curate?
I'm at a loss to advise.
He never will take the biscuit,
But he tries, and tries and tries!