Tempête Dans Un Bénitier
Georges Brassens
Storm in a Holy Water Font
Storm in a holy water font
The sovereign pontiff along with
The bishops, the archbishops
Are making a damn mess
They don't know what they're missing
All these damn priests
Without Latin, without Latin
The mass bores us
At the liturgical feast
No more grandeur, suddenly
Without Latin, without Latin
No more magical mystery
The enchanting ritual
Proves to be trivial
Without Latin, without Latin
And the faithful don't give a damn
O most Holy Mary mother of
God, tell those damn
Monks to go to hell
Without Latin
I'm not the only one, damn it
Since these rules have been enforced
I only go to Sunday mass
When it rains
They don't know what they're missing
All these damn priests
Without Latin, without Latin
The mass bores us
By renouncing the occult
They'll have to say goodbye
Without Latin, without Latin
To the church's offering
In the spring season
The Swiss, the sexton, the sacristan
Without Latin, without Latin
Will play hooky from church
O most Holy Mary mother of
God, tell those damn
Monks to go to hell
Without Latin
These birds are rabid
These crows that cut, gnaw, slice
The healthy and good old branch
Of the cross where they are perched
They don't know what they're missing
All these damn priests
Without Latin, without Latin
The mass bores us
The wine of the sacred chalice
Turns into blood sausage
Without Latin, without Latin
And its virtues weaken
In Lourdes, Sète or even Parme
Like in Quimper Corentin
The rectory without Latin
Has lost its charm
O most Holy Mary mother of
God, tell those damn
Monks to go to hell
Without Latin
