From the blog’s Official Parodohymnodist…
To the tune of Jingle Bell Rock!
Bishops meet, some are sweet, synods are held,
Some are included, some are repelled,
Synodal synods, how synods are run,
Now the synodal way’s begun.
Synods on synods and synods for fun,
Synods for clergy, synods for nuns,
Synodal synods, we’re open! We care!
In St. Peter’s Square!
What a bright time, its the right time
To cast the truth aside,
Synodal time is a full time,
To say we’re humble while we bask in pride!
Giddy-up lazybones, get back to work,
Synods are here to stay,
Marx and Lou Tagle, and Mario Grech,
That’s the synodal way!
Papal calls, synod halls, synodal path,
Synods as deadly as Sylvia Plath,
Dancing and prancing round dogmatic fare
In St. Peter’s Square
Not a fine show, it’s a mime show,
But we can’t look away
Synod yentas, lineamentas
Appear and vanish each and ev’ry day
Giddy-up, rigid ones, get back in place,
All you can do is pray,
Marx and Lou Tagle and Mario Grech,
Run the synodal
Rule the synodal
Own the synodal way…..
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Brings a tear to my eye thinking how close to reality this parody runs.
Outstanding, well done to the Parodyhymnodist.
Fr. Z: I have some deranged friends who thought, unfortunately, we should chime in.
The first contribution, to the tune of “Wellerman”, a sea chantey:
There once was a chap named Bu-gni-ni
And his liturgy’s name was Wonderful Me
He said All sing, He said All clap
Dance at the Altar, Dance
Soon may the Wicca Man come
To bring us guitars and bongo drums
Next, a song if it were written by Integralists, to the tune of “Let it Snow”:
Oh, the U.S. outside is frightful
But papalotry is so delightful
And Jew children are so small
Kill them all, kill them all, kill them all
Finally, a duet by Pelosi and Biden, to the tune of Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton’s “Islands in the Stream”:
Baby when I met you there was fantasy
I set out to make us our own heresy
I was Woke inside
Pachamama’s going on
…
Pagans in the world
That is what we are
Bugnini enthroned
How can he be wrong
Sail away with me
‘cross the River Styx
And we’ll gnash our teeth together, uh huh
Welp, Fr. Z… we’ll keep our day jobs. But, there was one more, it wasn’t panning out. The lyrics are about the diminishing of faith in the world and the rise of violence. Here’s the first two lines, to the tune of Freda Payne’s “Band of Gold”:
Now that You’re gone
All that’s left is a free-fire zone
(Oh well, another time, another bottle, or two, of wine.)
Just one thing to say: Priceless! ;D