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LIT-MUS-COMP

Trash the Hymn

Parodizing your favorite hymns since 1998

Here are the FIRST FIVE! Plenty more to come!

FAITH OF OUR RELATIVES (Faith of Our Fathers)
Jay Ricketts - Originally posted October 2, 1998, dedicated to the promotion of "inclusive language"

1. Faith of our uncles, aunties too, each / Christmas and Easter they come find a pew
She lost her rosary under the bed
He's got his bible out in the shed (leveling the legs on his workbench)

Faith of our relatives, lukewarm faith / We might just improve this song to death

2. Faith of our cousins and cousinettes / They haven't seen a Sunday mass yet
Weddings and funerals, a baptism or two / But Sundays they golf, or stay home and get stewed

Faith of our relatives, lightweight faith / We might just improve this song to death

3. Faith of our in-laws, why, only last June / They headed for Sunday mass, at noon
Their first mass in years, but then on a hunch
Drove past the church so they wouldn't miss brunch

Faith of our relatives, marginal faith / We just improved this song to death

WHATSOEVER YOU DO
Brian Michael Page - Originally posted on October 3, 1998 - dedicated to "reality"

REFRAIN: Whatsoever you do to the least of the others, Don't you do it to me.

1. When I was hungry, you gave me a taco / When I was thirsty, you gave me a beer.

(end of each verse): Now enter into the insane asylum. (repeat refrain)

2. When I was homeless, your dog took me home. / When I was naked, you gave me a toga.

3. When I was weary, you helped me find work. / When I was anxious, you told me to chill.

4. When I was little, you potty-trained me. / When I was lonely, you gave me a dog.

5. When in a prison, you got me paroled. / When on a sickbed, you gave me TV.

6. In a strange alley, I learned to survive. / Seeking employment, the position was filled.

7. Hurt in a street fight, you gave me a gun. / Searching for rescue, you got me the cops.

8. When I was pitbull, or monkey, or cat, / Rabid and dangerous, I bit your leg.

9. When I got old, you put me in a home / Where there was bingo, line-dancing, and cards.

10.You saw the chalklines of me on the street. / In a split second, you knew it was me.

11.When I was laughing at what I once did, / Fifty years back, you still thought I was sick.

MORNING HAS BROKEN
Brian Michael Page - Originally posted October 9, 1998, dedicated to the "Snowbird Statement"

Morning has broken, like the first morning. / Snowbird has spoken, stuck in old time.
Monkeys in Utah grinding their organs, / Passing the hat, and make one thin dime.

Sweet the rain's new fall, not just the old one.
Snowbird should get that through their thick heads.
Times are a-changing, snowbird has frozen, / Died, and has not been raised from the dead.

Mine is the sunlight, theirs is the snowbird, / Right wing as they come, left wing is clipped.
Our lips are praising with great elation, / Their lips ought to be bonded and zipped.

O GOD, THE BIRD'S STUCK IN THE PAST (O God, Our Help in Ages Past)
Brian Michael Page (vss. 1, 5, 6, and 7) and Jay Ricketts (verses 2, 3, and 4) - Originally posted October 11, 1998, also dedicated to the "Snowbird Statement"

O God, the bird's stuck in the past, / Like twenty-six years back.
So now, in tyrant stormy blasts, / I give it this wise crack.

Oh God, I just can't play those or-gan pedals, though I try;
It sounds as though a buffalo / crawled in the pipes to die!

I've never heard pipe organ used / for "We Are Called" or "Sing...
Of The Lord's Goodness", and I think / That's probably a good thing!

Oh God, your help has made pia-no my best axe, by far;
Don't let those Snowbird people send / Me back to playing bars!

Although the organ's my forte, / It doesn't hurt to try
To add an instrument or two or three, / Or maybe four or five.

I like it full, I love it loud, / Some brass and timpani,
But they can't pass the beggar's hat / Like any chimpanzee.

O God, help them break from the past, / And look toward years to come.
Or men with white coats shall come forth / To show the Bird his home.

HOW GREAT THE GAS (How Great Thou Art)
Brian Michael Page (verses 1, 2, and 4) and Jay Ricketts (verses 3 and 5) - Originally posted on October 23, 1998

1. O Lord My God, I made an awesome blunder.
I had three beers, before the morning Mass.
I tried to sing, the mic was making feedback,
When, from the mouth, my words were balls of gas.

REFRAIN:
Then burps my soul, my stomach talks to me.
How good the drink, how great the gas.
Then burps my soul, my stomach talks to me.
How good the drink, how great the gas.

2. Then on my way, to chat with the monsignor,
A dozen folks can smell me miles away.
The sacristy was blurry in my eyesight;
All I could think: I could get fired today.

3. And when I find the pastor not much caring,
we wait until the sun o'er steeple creeps;
We have our lunch, we're soon a six-pack sharing,
the one last vice a priest's allowed to keep!

4. Perhaps some snack, some pretzels or some beer nuts,
Might fill the gap where once I held my beer.
Then, O my God, the good monsignor told me,
My contract would not be renewed next year.

5. And when this gig, next year, is finally over,
my heart will sink, for who would take me in?
An old piano player, rarely sober,
who plays wrong notes, and reeks of Heineken.

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