Dear God I Want My Money Back

Dear God, I Want My Money Back

Dear God, I'm really sorry
And I really shouldn't moan
But I want back all the money spent
On my mobile phone

I was told that if I bought it
I would just have to ring
And God would be there for me
And I could tell him anything

Well, I was going for an ipod
But I just thought "What the hell"
I could save some cash, and text you
When I've taught myself to spell

So, with phone in hand and smile on face
I rang the number of your mission
Only to be greeted by
A multi choosing competition

Now, I know you're really busy
And there's lots of people need your help
But I know I got the answer right
A tartan skirt is called a kelp

But even though I won the time-share
No-ones ever got in touch
And you're the one who's omni-potent
You really are too much

So in closing off my nasty letter
I WOULD just like to say
You can keep your phone and time-share Villa
I never travel anyway

Just send me back the money
I lost on the phone-in competition
You know my address it' s "Destitute"
"Care Of The Gullible Idiots Mission"