Time for a little satire (yes, this means this is my birthday). I really thought long and hard about what kind of satire I should do. I was going to try to write letters between our SP and Benke. I couldn't do that without being obviously ironic. I thought about rewriting a Jesus First (Ni!) or DayStar (Ni!) article, but that just took up too much time. I decided on writing new lyrics to hymns to reflect the realities of my life and times. It is also much easier for me. I have written absolute schlock before, so this is not new for me.
Being Easter, I just had to try this hymn:
To Jesus Christ is Risen Today
Benke he got off today! Alleluia!
Syncretism's on its way! Alleluia!
Tried to nail him to the cross! Alleluia!
Suffer now we for this loss! Alleluia!
So this hymn we now doth sing! Alleluia!
To our pope and to our king! Alleluia!
They be buried in a grave! Alleluia!
Then our Synod we can save! Alleluia!
Oh these pains which we endure! Alleluia!
The synod now we shall procure! Alleluia!
Elect Preus to be our King! Alleluia!
Shall we then forever sing! Alleluia!
I think trying to parody a Trinitarian verse is really pushing it, so I shall end there. I should probably stop because I'm really pushing the sacrilegious line right now. I know what you are thinking. Don't do it Daniel. You'll be sorry. Yeah, right.
A Mighty fortress is our church
The purple palace groweth
Throws missionaries to the street
The SP the foe
Causes us great woe
The papacy is his
People call him the whizz
Right now he has no equal
I better stop. You all might have been right.
Tune: For all the saints
For all the men, who cannot find a wife
We must go searching carrying a knife
To abduct Baptist girls who cause much strife
We carry rocks and beer while on our way
Trying to marry Baptist girls we pray
We can convert them to out Luth'ran way
Evangelicals we all do see out
To try to ask them if they like take out
And then we marry them and they do pout
The sacraments we must convince them of
Show that for them and God we do have love
And try to keep our minds on things above
The Catholics we do not try to wed
They all have been in one to many beds
And we're not sure the priest would want us wed
The Orthodox though lovely they may be
Would prob'ly have us climbing olive trees
Because their home is on a temprate sea
We have to look for women everywhere
Except our church 'cause they are not found there
They are to busy playing with atheists' hair
Confessional women we do not find
They all are married to the Cath'lic kind
Of men who convert to Luth'rans and drink wine
I'm really grasping at straws now. It's going to take multiple indulgences to clear this up. I fear some may never forgive me for this parodyfest.