The Music Room

By Elton Camp Mrs. Van Snoot, of the arts is a patron Shes a stuffy, self-righteous matron Who wants all, her virtues to see Of any vices, she is entirely free In the fundamentalist church, shes a pillar Pure living and sobriety are what thrill her Liquors never passed my lips, she said Before Id imbibe, Id far rather be dead. Late afternoon and well into the night In her music room shes locked up tight A huge musical instrument is on display It serves in a decidedly uncultured way