LENTEN SONG
(to the tune of My Favorite Things)
Sackcloth and ashes, and days without eating,
Mortification and wailing and weeping,
A hair shirt that scratches, a nettle that stings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Penitence, flagellants, memento mori,
Spending nights sleeping on rocks in a quarry,
The sound of a cloak'd solemn cantor who sings,
These are still more of my favorite things.
Tossing and turning and yearning I'm spurning,
Passions aflame like an ember-day burning,
Corpus and carnis and wild drunken flings,
Forsaken are they for my favorite things!
When it's Christmas,
When the tree's lit,
When the cards are sent,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I can't wa-a-a-a-it till Lent.
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