(Or: This hymn is to be sung with full force gusto and enthusiastic mouse clicks!)

ON YOUR MARKS... GET SET...

Stand up, stand up for Hubert,
the Beaver on the cross,
Lift high His royal banner;
it must not suffer loss.
From Toothpaste, West Virginia,
His army shall He lead,
Till every fundie's vanquished,
and Hubert Lord indeed.

dancing beaver

Stand up, stand up for Hubert!

Stand up, stand up for Hubert,
His trumpet poot obey;
Caused by a fearsome curry,
in this His glorious day.
Ye that are loonies serve Him
against religious foes.
Let Hubert bounce on His cross,
and Northern beer oppose.

dancing beaver

Oops. Pardon me!

Click in time to Hubert!

Stand up, stand up for Hubert,
stand in His strength alone;
The purple flesh won't fail you,
but dare to trust your own.
Put on the beaver armour,
each piece put on with prayer;
Where putty calls or Fritos,
be never wanting there.

...two three four...

Hubert's mum - the Virgin beaver Mary - encourages Baby Jesus by slapping him around a little.

Stand up, stand up for Hubert,
the dance it might be long;
This day sweet tones wind-breaking,
the next the nun her song.
To those who vanquish Christians
mitres of green shall be;
They with the King called Hubert
shall finish the hymn without a rhyming couplet.

Hubert the Dancing Beaver Deity invents rocket power.

 Click in time to Hubert!

And now, a message from the Pope:

The Pope lets a couple rip.

Click in time with the Pope!

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© Copyright 2001 Martin J Burn - The English Atheist

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