I robbed in church and built a bungalow

I Robbed in Church and Built a Bungalow

According to rumours that cross my ears,

They say I robbed the church — oh dear!

But I wonder where that robbery money’s gone,

Oh Jesus, did I build a bungalow from what was robbed?

My name echoes through our parish walls,

Whispers and stares in the church halls.

I don't even know what crime I’ve done,

Why would I steal when I need none?

My account holds enough to survive,

Why would I rob just to stay alive?

Oh Jesus, please forgive me if it’s true,

But I don’t recall stealing from you.

Rumours are not always the truth we hear,

They twist and turn, fueled by fear.

This isn’t about a robbery in church —

But false rumours spreading on a reckless search.