Dear Mr Harold Camping

Dear Mr Harold Camping,
I’ve a bone to pick with thee
The world didn’t end last Saturday
Just kept on going you see
I’m in a somewhat confused state
‘Cos we all believed it should
Though you got it wrong in ‘94
We still believed it would

I spent my children’s college fees
On advertising billboards
We’ve got no bleedin’ furniture
And we’re sleeping on bare floorboards
Now, I’m a quite forgiving sort,
But times like these are trying
‘Cos me, my wife and family
Were quite looking forward to dying

Dear Mr Harold Camping,
You’ve gone to ground, they say
But one question perplexes me
In every single way
What happened to the millions
We raised for your good cause?
Did you really need that amount of cash
To open Heaven’s doors?

Now I’ve become a laughing stock
‘Cos I didn’t drop down dead
I guess I’m gonna have to wait
For 2012 instead
So Mr Harold Camping
Forgive me for sounding crass
But you can take your Family Radio
And shove it up your arse