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From:  Lana Mountford <lana@a...>
Lana Mountford <lana@a...>
Date:  Tue Nov 28, 2000  6:43 pm
Subject:  A different Messiah . . .


All this talk of the upcoming performance of a "different" Messiah
reminded me of this little gem which I believe may have been posted to
Vocalist in one of its earliest years of existence. Enjoy!

Warning -- contains adult themes; parental guidance advised :-) :


>The Messyah

> Thus saith the Lord, the Lord of Toast:
> "Yet once a little while, and I will bake
> the breads and dessert, whole wheat and the rye-bread;
> all bagels, I’ll bake, with the desire of all noshers for some.
> The chef whom ye seek shall certainly send you a sample,
> ev’n by messenger with an oven mitt (which ye fit right in);
> Behold! Even buns!" saith the Lord of Toast.
>
> cf. also "The crumpet shall brown," below.
>
> But who may abide the bray of his strumming,
> and who shall stand when he premiereth?
> For he has liked to get minors sired.
>
> For he shall surely buy,
> For he shall surely buy,--a ton of Levi’s;
> That he may offer unto the horde
> an offering of "righteous" dress.
>
> Behold! A sturgeon shall bite Steve, and take his gun,
> and shall hold a flame to Samuel.
> Cod with us.
>
> O thou, that sellest good siding to Brian,
> Get thee up unto the accountants...
>
> There were shepherds, imbibing in the fields,
> drinking scotch over the rocks by night.
> And lo! the urge to smorgasbord came upon them
> and a glorious aroma round about them;
> they thought they had it made.
> But the waiter said unto them, "Here? Not!
> for behold, we’re out of smoked salmon and cream cheese.
> Take your spree to those people:
> For you will find across the way, in the Cafe' of David,
> A flavor which is spiced--galore!"
>
> His yolk is over easy, his breakfast is "lite."
>
> All we, asleep, still have to play;
> we have yearned, every one for his own pay.
>
> Thou art gone onstage high, thou art gone onstage high!
> Thou hast held the Cabernet captive, and enough gin for ten,
> Yea, even for thine enemas!
> Front row, poor sods, thou fell among them!
>
> Thou shalt fake them with their rotten high runs,
> Thou shalt thrash them, those pieces, while thy daughters wrestle.
>
> The Lord saved the herd:
> Great was the humping among the creatures.
>
> How beautiful is the seat of him that teaches the sophomores in
Greece,
> And fits so tightly in good jeans...
>
> Since by van came Beth,
> by van came also the headboard section of the bed.
> But has she had some more pie?
> Even just one slice, with all that stuff inside!
>
> The crumpet shall brown,
> and the bread shall be raised--it smells wonderful!
> (Are those eggs free range?)
>
> Oh Beth, where is thy thing?
> Oh Dave, where is thy d*** for me?
> The thing of Beth is thin,
> and the length of his is quite long.
>
> But thanks, thanks be to Todd,
> Who playeth us the timpani through our long winter nights.
>
> Honolulu! For I would rather be on vacation!
> The thing about this world is the sun;
> Get me a seat on board tomorrow’s flight, tomorrow’s flight,
> And catch those rays for ever and ever.
> Fling of flings, and scores of whores, Honolulu!
>
>
>
> --compiled by G.T. for the December 1993 _Philharmonia Baroque
> Musician_, the newsletter of Philharmonia Baroque
> players. (c) PBM 1993
>
>


--
Explain it as we may, a martial strain will urge a man into the front
rank of battle sooner than an argument, and a fine anthem excite his
devotion more certainly than a logical discourse.
~ Henry Tuckerman ~
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Lana Mountford lana@a... Seattle, WA



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