Once upon a time there was a man called Saul
Who persecuted Christians until he saw
The work was bearing fruit for the Christians
So the man changed his opinions and his Christian name to Paul
And he wrote important chapters in the Bible
But the blood on his writing hand reeked to high heaven
And Paul resolved to die
So he wrote to friends in Rome
A senator who owed him a favour
Asking for an executioner
So Paul could make his exit as a martyr
The senator sent this answer:
He said “Should you be so lucky like St Sebastian
Preferring the ache to the aspirin
Swooning as they shoot the arrows
Through your narrow chest
Stripping naked in the Circus Maximus
With a martyr-eating lioness
Bartering with flesh for a little pain
Scenes like this give sadomasochism a bad name”
Once there was a man who loved a woman too much
To give up hope when he saw she wouldn’t touch him with a barge pole
He spent his whole life in the Inferno
He composed in thirty-four cantos
O Dante though I’m anti such romantic speculation
I’m your hypocrite reader in the same situation
I’m your double, oh me I’m your brother in pain
But Alighieri if you’ll listen there’s a difference
Between your Beatrice and my Paula
She’s anonymous and now a waitress
- It’s comic but not divine
The tragedy is no-one’s dying!
Should I be so lucky like St Sebastian
Going out with a bang, just hear me
Whimpering with joy as Mr Death receives his blue-eyed boy
Surrender unto Caesar or to God, it makes no odds
There’s just one thing the martyr wants to say:
He says “Tell me, Mrs Lincoln, did you enjoy the play?”