It's Sunday. Here's an anagram for the Lord's Prayer:

HELP ROSY RETARD

Warfare haunt thine Hoover!
By the lewd, mean halo,
Bed the lily now.
Spoof myth; elude God.
Hi, non-edible owl! Coy theme?
Tie a nerve, NASA whore. I've a gutsy dish.
Dial your nervous red B.A.--

Gross fetus paradise:
Vassar stung testes.
Splendid attention, Automaton, but
Vassar, I shit vile sin from India Ink.

Prank midget woodhen, weigh
Hydrangea forever molten.