Monday, May 07, 2007

With Apologies to Don McLean

Anglican Pie

A long, long time ago,
I can still remember
How the bishops used to make me smile.
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those bishops dance
And, maybe, they’d be happy for a while.

But the Global Primates made me shiver
With every paper they’d deliver.
Bad news on the doorstep;
I couldn’t take one more step.

I can’t remember if I cried
When I read about the Primates' pride,
But something touched me deep inside
The day the Communion died.

So bye-bye, bitter Anglican pie.
Took my mitre to the River,
But the Thames, it was dry.
And good old bishops drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that we die.
This’ll be the day that we die."

Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in unity,
Can bishops set your soul free,
And can you teach me how to lead real slow?

Well, I know that you’re in love with him
making bishops' faces look quite grim.
From the closet you both leapt.
In their chambers bishops wept.

I was a lonely gay man in the pew
With a prayer book and hymnal, both brand new
But those coming out were just too few
The day the Communion died.

I started singin',
bye-bye, bitter Anglican pie.
Took my mitre to the River,
But the Thames, it was dry.
And good old bishops drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that we die.
This’ll be the day that we die."

Now for two hundred years we’ve been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin’ stone,
But that’s not how it used to be.
When Cantaur spoke from the Primates' floor,
In a cope he borrowed from John Moore
And a voice that left out you and me,

Oh, and while Cantuar was looking down,
Nigeria stole his pointy crown.
The meeting was adjourned;
A harsh verdict was returned.
And while Katharine offered words of grace,
The bishops gathered in one place,
And they said "No!" to Cantuar's face
The day the Communion died.

We were singing,
bye-bye, bitter Anglican pie.
Took my mitre to the River,
But the Thames, it was dry.
And good old bishops drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that we die.
This’ll be the day that we die."

Helter skelter in the coming summer swelter.
Schismatics flew off to a CANA shelter,
Eight miles high and falling fast.
It landed foul on the grass.
The players tried for a forward pass,
With Cantuar on the sidelines in a cast.

Now the spring-time air was sweet perfume
While the bishops played a marching tune.
We all got up to dance,
Oh, but we never got the chance!
`cause the Primates tried to take the field;
The House of Bishops refused to yield.
Do you recall what was revealed
The day the Communion died?

We started singing,
bye-bye, bitter Anglican pie.
Took my mitre to the River,
But the Thames, it was dry.
And good old bishops drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that we die.
This’ll be the day that we die."

Oh, and there we were all in one place,
A whole Communion lost in space
With no time left to start again.
So come on: Cantuar be nimble, Cantuar be quick!
Cantuar give Peter a swift kick
Cause schism is the devil’s only friend.

Oh, and as I watched Abuja on the stage
My hands were clenched in fists of rage.
No angel born in hell
Could break that satan’s spell.
And as their hands climbed high into the night
To celebrate their schismatic rite,
I saw satan laughing with delight
The day the Communion died

He was singing,
bye-bye, bitter Anglican pie.
Took my mitre to the River,
But the Thames, it was dry.
And good old bishops drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’, "this’ll be the day that we die.
This’ll be the day that we die."

I met a Primate who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and turned away.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the good news years before,
But the man there said the news wouldn’t play.

And in the pews, the people screamed,
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed.
But not a word was spoken;
The church bells all were broken.
And the three men I admire most:
The father, son, and the holy ghost,
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the Communion died.

J.

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