Papa Pizzaballa

[Intro – Solo piano in D minor, 68 bpm. Light cathedral reverb.] Pierbattista in the garden prays With olive oil and rosé glaze He feeds communion to a goat Then sails the chapel in a gravy boat [Verse 1 – Add cello, soft pizzicato strings. Voice solemn but wide-eyed.] He kissed a fresco in the rain Baptized a lizard on a speeding train Pizzaballa bless the melon stand Held a sermon in a pizza pan Capibara Benedettina sighs She guards the keys to paradise With every sniff she grants annulments Swallowed a Bible, found fulfillment [Chorus – Enter organ and distant choir. Sing like you're ascending.] Pizzaballa! Light of Rome! He canonized a traffic cone Spoke in tongues to a porcupine Turned holy water into sparkling wine Pierbattista! Voice of doves! He ordained a pig in boxing gloves He cried a relic into stone Then built a dome from provolone [Verse 2 – Drop back to piano and cello. A hush of awe.] He wrestled twelve zucchini priests Fed trippa soup to phantom beasts In lunar vestments made of ham He whispered Latin to a traffic jam Porcellino Santarosa weeps She dreams of Pizzaballa’s leaps Over pews and sacred fences Casting out espresso lenses [Bridge – Build slowly. Add harp, swelling strings. Every "TUNG" echoes like thunder. Tempo slows.] TUNG… TUNG… TUNG… He walks through midnight cloaks of myrrh TUNG… TUNG… TUNG… He silences the heretic purr TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG… SAHUR TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG TUNG… SAHUR TUNG-A-TUNGO, TUNGALÀ SAHURINO, GLORIA! TUNG TUNG TUNG… SAHUUUR… SAHUR… SAHUR… (whispers) (candle flickers out) [Verse 3 – Silence, then soft reentry with harmonium. Tender delivery.] He knelt and blessed a crab with shame It wept and never pinched again Pizzaballa carved the moon in bread And fed it to a cloud instead He told a donkey “thou art dust” Then gave it wings and earned its trust Brrr brrr patapim, he flies With saintly ferrets in disguise [Chorus – Swell to final majestic cadence. Full choir returns.] Pizzaballa! Man of lamb! He kissed a fish in Bethlehem Trippi troppi troppa trippa He drew a halo on a kippa Pierbattista! Keeper true! He knits the sky in Vatican blue He canonized the moon itself Then filed it on his pasta shelf [Outro – Fade out with solo boy soprano singing “Pizzaballa…” softly over harmonium]