I was minding my business Lifting some lead off the roof of the holy name church It was worthwhile living a laughable life To set my eyes on the blistering sight Of a vicar in a tutu, he's not strange He just wants to live his life this way A scanty bit of a thing covered with a decorative ring Wouldn't cover the head of a goose As Rose collects the money in the canister Who comes sliding down the Bannister? Vicar in a tutu, he's not strange He just wants to live his life this way The monkish monsignor with a head full of plaster Said, "My man, get your vile soul dry-cleaned" As Rose counts the money in the canister As natural as rain and he dances again, my God Vicar in a tutu, oh-yeah, yeah Oh-yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah La-la-la-la ♪ Vicar in a tutu, oh-yeah Oh-ah-ah-ah, ah-ah The next day in the pulpit, with freedom and ease Combatting ignorance, dust with disease As Rose counts the money in the canister As natural as rain, and he dances again and again, and again With a fabric of a tutu any man could get used to And I am the living sign And I'm a living sign I'm a living sign, I'm a living sign I am a living sign, I'm a living sign, sign I'm a living sign