The Grouchy Guardian Angel
Look at you there, sayin' your prayers,
by Mary Naylor
with never a thought or a care, for your guardian angel.
I expected to get that sweet quiet Kate.
Instead by some mistake, I get a rapscallion named Nate,
who leaps over garden gates and loves to tempt fate.
Well, just tell me, mate, who do you expect
to get you out of those scrapes? Your guardian angel.
Oh how it grates! At the last church supper
Who put that blinkin' toad in the salad bowl,
and tucked those grasshoppers in poor sleepin' Jake's
whiskers? Then, when he waked with a shriek
and ran for the lake, with all the churchfolk in his wake,
who made a beeline for the ice cream and cake? NATE!
And who will they blame up there? Your guardian angel.
But wait! What is that soft bright light? Ah, my angel friend.
They ask above if I'd like to trade Nate for Kate, sweet and angelic?
Well, it's like this; he looks kinda cute sleepin' there,
in that tangle of hair, all cuddled up to his teddy bear.
To leave him just wouldn't be fair.
After all, I am his guardian angel.