If your joy there to be found

   Beyond the clouds
    of purest white
Visible in the afterlife
  Stood a floating isle
of pure rainbow hues, untainted
   There lives a Lord,
with obsessive cleaniness disorder
  But a lazy sloth he is
  He doesn't clean, rather
   He flings the tainted
  Forever out of his sight
     Adequate he finds
So take a bath
before your soul rise
If your joy
There to be found