On Wednesdays we had church parade,
And each would have a choice.
Protestant or Catholic,
Were the words you had to voice.

But Wally would have none of this,
And to his guns he stuck.
"I'm neither one of those!" he said,
"So you are out of luck!"

The brass said that he had to choose,
It was unwritten law.
And if he did not go to church,
They'd find another chore.

But nothing could deter old Wal,
He wouldn't be denied.
And no-one could get through to him,
Despite how hard they tried.

So we'd be in the church hall,
'Bringing in the sheaves.'
While Wally was on the parade ground,
Raking up the leaves.