El Palmar de Troya

I'm going to Seville immediately
My girl is devoted to Pope Clement
Dressed in black down to her ankles
She proudly contemplates her Tridentine look

Finally, she meets the schismatic pope
And immediately notices he's very nice
She takes Clement to the manger
To make Lefevre jealous
In mystical ecstasy, she kneels
Rises and flies over Seville

He mutilates himself every day
With broken bottles of González Byass

Clement, Clement, don't mutilate yourself anymore
Clement, Clement, for the holy face
The pious crowd almost runs me over
As I headed to the Palm Grove of Troya

In Alba de Tormes, Clement succumbs
Before the avalanche of so many legumes
Everyone goes to the dance academy
Clement learns tangos by braille

God punished him for being an onanist
And the poor man lost his sight
What a delicate pleasure it is to be excommunicated