Monday, July 13, 2015

Anything Goes!

Time for another re-write...

Times have changed,
And we've often rewound the clock,
Since the Puritans got a shock,
When they landed on Plymouth Rock.
If today,
Any shock they should try to stem,
'Stead of landing on Plymouth Rock,
Plymouth Rock would land on them.

In olden days a hint of sin
Was looked on as something that would do you in,
But now, God knows,
Anything Goes.

Good preachers too who once knew better words,
Now are free to use use four letter words
Preaching prose, Anything Goes.

The world has gone mad today
And good's bad today,
And black's white today,
And day's night today,
When most guys today
That women prize today
Are not guys at all
And though I'm not a great romancer
I know that I'd better take care to answer
When you propose,
Anything goes

When grandma whose age is eighty
Hangs out in clubs getting matey with ladies,
Anything Goes.

When mothers pack and leave their men
Because they decide they'd rather be lesbians,
Anything Goes.

If driving high you like,
If gay bars you like,
If old hims you like,
If bare feet you like,
If Miley Cyrus you like
Or me undressed you like,
Why, nobody will oppose!
When every night,
The set that's neat
Is dressing like a nudist party in heat,
Anything Goes.

If same-sex marriage you like,
If gender neutrality you like
If old queens you like,
If teenage trannies you like,
If love affairs you like
With young bears you like,
Why nobody will oppose!

And though I'm not a great romancer
I know that I'd better take care to answer
When you propose,
Anything goes


Monday, July 6, 2015

Revision!

One of the casualties of the secular and religious war on human sexuality will undoubtedly be all of those old films and songs that speak exclusively to heterosexual romance  and relationships.

I am afraid that "Fiddler on the Roof" will be corrected in the following manner (note that I had to create some neologisms here and there).

Revision, revision! Revision!
Revision, revision! Revision!

[The Pama and Mapa]
Who, day and night, must scramble for a living,
Feed a wife and children, say the daily prayers?
And who has the right, as sharer of the house,
To have the final word at home?

The Pama, the Mapa! Revision!
The Pama, the Mapa! Revision!

Who must know the way to make a proper home,
A quiet home, a kosher home?
Who must raise the family and run the home,
So Pama's free to run around?

The Pama, the Mapa! Revision!
The Pama, the Mapa! Revision!

[The Gender Undecided]
At three, I started public school. At ten, I learned I had a choice.
Someday I'll pick a partner for me. I hope it's pretty.

The dautson, the dautson! Revision!
The dautson, the dautson! Revision!

[The Trans]
And who does Mapa teach to mend and tend and fix,
Preparing me to marry whoever Pama picks?

The trans, the trans! Revision!
The trans, the trans! Revision!

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Should auld Articles be forgot, And Anglicans left a'dyne?

Should auld Articles be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld Articles be forgot,
And Anglicans left a'dyne?

For Anglicans left a'dyne, my dear,
For Anglicans left a'dyne,
They'll tak your cup o' kindness yet,
For Anglicans left a'dyne.

And surely ye'll believe your Bishop,
And surely I'll believe mine!
And we'll fight o'er a cup o' kindness yet,
For Anglicans a'dyne.

For Anglicans left a'dyne, my dear,
For Anglicans left a'dyne,
They'll tak your cup o' kindness yet,
For Anglicans left a'dyne.

We twa hae run about the courts,
And pu'd the canons fine;
But we've wandered far astray
Sin' Anglicans a'dyne.

For Anglicans left a'dyne, my dear,
For Anglicans left a'dyne,
They'll tak your cup o' kindness yet,
For Anglicans left a'dyne.

We twa hae paidled i' the blogs,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But schisms 'tween us braid hae roared
Sin' Anglicans are a'dyne.

For Anglicans left a'dyne, my dear,
For Anglicans left a'dyne,
They'll tak your cup o' kindness yet,
For Anglicans left a'dyne.

And there's a hand, my trusty foe,
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught
For Anglicans a'dyne.

For Anglicans left a'dyne, my dear,
For Anglicans left a'dyne,
They'll tak your cup o' kindness yet,
For Anglicans left a'dyne.

With apologies to Auld Lang Syne a Christmas & New year poem by Robert Burns

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

+KJS' Departing Song: "Can't Help Leavin' Dat Church of Mine"

With the announcement by the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal church that she will not seek re-election came the inspiration for the following parody of "Can't Help Lovin That Man of Mine."
Fish got to swim, bishops got to fly,
I gotta quit, and I’ll tell you why.
Couldn't help ruinin that church of mine.
Tell me it’s lazy, tell me it’s po,
Tell me I'm crazy, (maybe I know).
Can't help leavin' dat Church of mine. 
Oh listen sister,
I love my position,
And I can't tell you' why
Dere ain't no reason
Why I should leave while I can,
It mus' be sumpin dat de angels done plan. 
Fish got to swim, bishops got to fly,
I gotta quit, and I’ll tell you why.
I couldn't stop  that ole church decline. 
Tell me it’s lazy, tell me it’s po,
Tell me I'm crazy, (maybe I know).
Can't help leavin' dat Church of mine.
When I goes away,
Dat's a rainy day,
And when somebody worse comes in dat day is fine,
De sun will shine!
The new one kin just follow my lead,
But 815 without me ain't no home to be,
He/She won't stop that ole church decline. 
De steeple's smokin'
De roof is leakin' in,
But I don't seem to care
‘Bout the damage I done.
Dere ain't nothin more that I can do.
And why do dey still love me?
It mus' be sumpin' dat de angels can see. 
Fish got to swim, bishops got to fly,
I gotta quit, and I’ll tell you why.
I couldn't stop that ole church decline.
Tell me it’s lazy, tell me it’s po,
Tell me I'm crazy, (maybe I know).
Can't help leavin' dat Church of mine. 
Dat Church of mine. She may be dyin',
Unwelcoming and cold,
Services slow as molasses, I know,
I could't stop that ole church decline. 
Can't help leavin' When I goes away
From dat Church of mine dat's dying
As I  goes away,
They’ll all be cryin.
For me to come back an' save da day…
Can't help leavin' dat Church of mine. 
Yes, sister Yes, sister
The gender confused kin come home
All are welcome, but where de rest done gone?
Church widout thou, Church widout thee,
Ain't nobody left to sue,  Ain't no money  for me,
Can't help leavin' Can't help leavin'
Dat church of mine.  Dat church of mine.


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Every Pledge You Make... The P.B. Will Be Suing You

Recently, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal organization ordered the remnant Episcopal group to keep on suing the departing Diocese of San Joaquin in a process that has been going on since 2008 (see the story at StandFirm in Faith).

One traditionalist in the Episcopal church suggested that people be made aware that pledge dollars are going to fund these lawsuits to the tune of millions of dollars, and that this is not the "mission" of the church.

My apologies to The Police and Sting, but please keep the tune to Every Breath You Take in mind when you sing this one.

Every pledge you make
Is a dollar I'll rake
A bond of affection I'll break
Another step I'll take
Towards suing you

Every check you pay
Is another way
To prolong the game I play
To keep my sheep from going astray
I'll be suing you

O can't you see
Your church belongs to me
How my poor heart aches with every step you take

Every move you make
Every canon you break
Every smile you fake
Every bank account you stake
I'll be suing you

Since South Carolina's gone I been lost without a trace
I dream at night I can only see Mark Lawrence's face
I look around but it's the income I can't replace
I feel so cold and I long for your tax base
I keep crying baby, baby please

Every move you make
Every canon you break
Every smile you fake
Every bank account you stake
I'll be suing you


Friday, June 13, 2014

Relationship, Relationship Will Keep Us Together

The Bishop of Upper South Carolina is trying his hardest to plug the leaks in his diocese by pushing his "In Dialogue With Each Other: A Curriculum" (on same sex relationships) into the cracks that are appearing as two of his largest churches have already charted a different course. A lot of Episcopal clergymen are called "Father", but after reading Bishop Waldo's lame attempt to save a sinking denomination, "fothering" maybe a better description of the pastoral skill set of this typical Episcopal bishop.

If you are taking a long voyage this summer, bring a copy of the Bishop's work with you. Good luck if you do start taking on water because it appears that "relationship" is going to be the only tool you have going for you.

Relationship, relationship will keep us together
Think of it, babe, whenever
Some sweet talkin' blogger comes along
Singin' his song, don't mess around
You just got to be strong

Just pledge, 'cause I really relate to you
Pledge, I'll be thinking of you
Look in your pocketbook
And let relationship keep us together

You, you belong to me now
Ain't gonna set you free now
When those bloggers start
Posting around, talking me down
Hear with your heart and you won't hear a sound

Just pledge, 'cause I really relate to you
Pledge, I'll be thinkin' of you
Look in your pocketbook
And let relationship keep us together, whatever

Naive and dutiful
Someday your youth will be gone
When the Bible turns you off
Who'll be turnin' you on
I will, I will, I will

I will, be your bishop forever
Relationship will keep us together
I said it before and I'll say it again
While others contend,
I simply bend

Just pledge, 'cause I really relate to you
Pledge, I'll be thinking of you
Look in your pocketbook
And let relationship keep us together, whatever
I will, I will, I will, I will

You better pledge, 'cause I really relate to you
Pledge, I've been thinkin' of you
Look in your pocketbook
And let relationship keep us together, whatever
I will, I will, I will, I will

Apologies to Captain And Tennille

How long will it take before the fothering of this Episcopal ship fails and the diocese goes down to Davy Jones locker?  


Sunday, March 9, 2014

Your Labyrinth Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore

I filled in for my friend the Undergroundpewster who had a dizzy spell today and was unable to keep up with his usual twice weekly blog over at "Not Another Episcopal Church Blog". Before spinning out, UGP asked my opinion on the following announcement in his parish newsletter,  
THE FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT March 9 
"The Labyrinth will be set up in the Parish Hall during both coffee hours. Everyone is invited to walk the Labyrinth and experience a quiet time of prayer and resolve...  The Labyrinth is an archetype, a divine imprint, found in all religious traditions in various forms around the world. It has only one path, so there are no tricks to it and no dead ends. The path winds around and doubles back on itself, becoming a mirror for where we are in our lives, a metaphor for our spiritual journey; it touches our sorrows and releases our joys. The pathway in and the pathway out are the same; only the pilgrim has changed in the process."
That had Lent written all over it. I could hardly wait to see what the second week in Lent has in store for the poor pewster. Feeling inspired, I composed a little song based loosely on something John Prine once wrote. I call it, "Your Labyrinth Won't Get You Into Heaven Anymore."

 While pickin up the Sunday bulletin
As I walked in the church door,
A little card with a spiral on the front
Fell out on the floor.
Well, I picked it up, and I ran inside
Sat right down on my pew,
And I can't wait to pass the peace
To tell folks what to do.

 Chorus:
But your labyrinth won't get you Into Heaven anymore.
All that spiraling inward
Won't open Heaven's door.
Keep your eyes on Jesus,
And off those patterns on the floor.
No your labyrinth won't get you Into Heaven anymore.

 Well, I went to the church this morning,
And the priestess said to me,
If you pay your Episcopal pledge,
We'll let you run around the labyrinth for free.
Well I didn't mess around one bit,
I took her up on what she said.
And I went into the parish hall
With a blessing on my forehead.

 Chorus:
But your labyrinth won't get you Into Heaven anymore.
All that spiraling inward
Won't open Heaven's door.
Keep your eyes on Jesus,
And off those patterns on the floor.
No your labyrinth won't get you Into Heaven anymore.

Well, I went round and round that thing
So many times I couldn't see.
I went into a seizure,
That the folks thought was ecstasy.
I lost control and fell down hard
Right onto my head.
By the time they got the priestess down I was already dead
And I'll never understand
 Why the man Standing at the pearly gates said,

 Chorus:
But your labyrinth won't get you Into Heaven anymore.
All that spiraling inward
Won't open Heaven's door.
Keep your eyes on Jesus,
And off those patterns on the floor.
No your labyrinth won't get you Into Heaven anymore.

Thanks John!