Welcome to the Hotel Bergogliona

For fans of the Eagles and those old enough to remember pop music in the '70s.

From John Zmirak on Twitter, via Vox Cantoris

On a dark Roman highway, dry gel in my hair

Old cries of “Evita!” echoing through the air

Up above on the platform, I saw an old man in white

My thoughts grew cloudy and my faith felt dim

I had to stop for the night.

Rosica stood in the doorway

I heard the rentboys’ cell.

And I was thinking to myself

"Is it Purgatory? Or is this just Hell?"

Spadaro lit up a candle and he showed me the way

There were giggles down the corridor

I thought I heard them say:

Welcome to the Hotel Bergogliona

Such a humble place (Such a humble place)

Such a pious place

Mercy abounds at the Hotel Bergoglionia

Any kind of slack (Any kind of slack)

They will cut you that.

The priests are Mapplethorpe-twisted, even those in Depends

They got a lot of pretty, pretty boys … seminarians

How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat

Some rite to remember, some choose to forget.

So I called up the Cardinal

"Please tell me you’re straight."

He said, "We haven't had many such men here since nineteen-fifty-eight."

And old McCarrick keeps calling from far away

Wakes you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear him say:

Welcome to the Hotel Bergogliona

Such a yummy place (Such a yummy place)

Where there’s  no disgrace.

They makin’ things up at the Hotel Bergogliona

Time to catechize (time to catechize)

Then apostasize....

Putti on the ceiling

Pink chasubles and lace

Martin said "We are all just bridge-builders here, to our own disgrace"
And in the pontiff’s chapel

They celebrate their feast

Singing lots of happy, happy lies

In honor of the Beast...

Last thing I remember

I was kneeling on the floor

I had to climb the long way back to the faith I’d had before

"Relax," Paglia told me

"We’ve a program to deceive

Pose your Dubia any time you like

Since we just don’t believe!"