The Ballad of Stickleback2 and Cocaine Jesus

we don't mind if the hills a little steep,
we work all day with no rest and no sleep.
we carry our sins in a bag upon our backs
avoiding cats and the pavement cracks.
armed with a lens, a single reflex view,
happy to snap all things new.
we roam through streets where friendly folk sit,
frankly my dears we don't give a shit.
we often stop to have a swift beer
swallowed slow but always with good cheer.
stickleback shuffles like a hairy arsed sheep
while cocaine jesus falls down in a heap.
by the end of day when the shutter silent sits
then its over to him to write up a few bits.
trouble is with all the beer we've sunk,
the lensmen is pissed and the wordsmith drunk.