A boy is porked by hard-pine Father Timmy;
they transfer him. . .replaced by Father Jimmy,
who shows the altar boys his affection
by entering “pearly gates” with his erection.
It’s another stuff. . .just the stuff of The City.

The fathers lurk in corridors of power—
lots of intrigue by those who wear the collar.
The Pontiff’s frail, his job wanted by many.
They skulk around, waiting for the death of Bennie.
This is just the stuff, stuff of Vatican City.

A shiv in back—Vat vipers acting princely—
murmurs in court worthy of Machiavelli.
Then laundry’s aired, and it is really smelly.
The fall guy is Paolo Gabiele,
so this butler’s cuffed, butler’s cuffed by The City.

The butler harmed the corrupt court of Bennie,
they say, but he’s the least likely of many
who could have leaked papers to the press people. . .
secret papers show Pope inept and feeble.
This is just the stuff, stuff of Vatican City.

The place is wrong, and it is such a pity
so many take seriously Vatican City.
They think confession will bring them absolution,
while the hierarchy’s sins transcend convolution.
This is just the stuff, stuff of Vatican City.

So now we hear, inside of tales that harrow,
where they haul all their swag ’round by the barrow.
The place is ghoulish; run by venal oldsters
who hide their crimes and those of penile polesters.
This is just the stuff, stuff of Vatican City.

[fade on hushed tones of plotters in the corridors]