This is humor. Don't draw theological conclusions that may be unintended from what amounts, in some instances, to forcing words to fit the rough meter of the song. Parody.
To the tune of Gloria Gaynor's, "I will Survive."
First I was afraid
I was Petrified
Kept thinking I could never live
without an infallible guide
But I spent so many nights
thinking how you exegeted wrong
I grew wise
I learned how Scripture applies
and so you claim
You dispense grace
I checked my blog to find you there
with that egg upon your face
I should have changed my rule of faith
I should have made you leave the keys
If I had known for just one second
you'd be back to bother me
Go on now go walk out the door
just turn around now
'cause you're not welcome anymore
weren't you the one who tried to burn Wyclif's Bible
you think I'd crumble
you think I'd lay down and die
Oh no, not I
I will survive
as long as i know how to read
I know I will stay alive
I've got all my life to live
I've got the Word of God that's giv'n
and I'll survive
I will survive
It took all the strength God gave
not to fall in heresy
kept trying hard to mend
the pieces of your bad theology
and I spent oh so many nights
pondering the magisterium
I used to cry
Now I hold my Bible high
and you see me
somebody new
I'm not that chained up little layman
still venerating you
and so you felt like dropping in
and just expect me to fear thee
now I'm saving all my loving
for the God who's loving me
I've embedded the original (?) Gloria Gaynor song below via YouTube:
-TurretinFan
Monday, September 01, 2008
7 comments:
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Thank you for sharing this...I needed something light today.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you liked it!
ReplyDeleteNice -- thank you. I like how you brought the "keys" in.
ReplyDeleteFreddie Peren wrote the song; Gloria was the first to sing it.
Do you remember the Mass, Turretino?
ReplyDeleteDo you remember the Mass?
And the unfolding and the spreading,
Of the cloth for the Wedding,
And the veil of fine fleece in the High altarpiece,
And the Wine that saved one from Hell?
And the whispers and the tears of the old friar dear,
Under the shadow of the baldocchino?
Do you remember the Mass, Turretino?
Do you remember the Mass?
And the whispers and the tears of the old friar dear,
Who hadn’t got a penny,
And who hadn’t left any,
And the crescendo of the choir and the brass?
And the clink, clonk, clank,
Of the clash,
Of the beads to the rise and the fall,
Of the girl bowed saying,
Praying,
Humbly supplicating,
Moving of the fingers to the sound,
Round and round,
And the ding, dang, dong of the bell?
Do you remember the Mass, Turretino?
Do you remember the Mass?
Never more, Turretino, never more.
Only the weather cocks soar,
And the river Styx a torrent at the door.
No sound,
On the path to the gate wear waits,
The Judge,
Of the living and the dead with a crown.
No sound,
But the boom,
Of the divine decree of Doom.
Adapted from Belloc's Tarantella.
Oops, "wear" should read "where."
ReplyDeleteI have to say, finding a way to fit "baldacchino" (a name for the 'royal' canopy over the altar) into the rhyme was clever.
ReplyDeleteThe difference between the worship of the Reformation and the worship of Rome (especially as it was at the height of its grandeur) is quite striking.
-TurretinFan
I never would have imagined you would know that song. You are one notch cooler.
ReplyDeleteLove it!