Musical offering for the second Sunday of Advent

December 8, 2019

English translation:

A spotless rose is blowing,
Sprung from a tender root,
Of ancient seers’ foreshowing,
Of Jesse promised fruit;
Its fairest bud unfolds to light
Amid the cold, cold winter,
And in the dark midnight.

The rose which I am singing,
Whereof Isaiah said,
Is from its sweet root springing
In Mary, purest maid;
Through God’s great love and might
The blessed babe she bore us
In a cold, cold winter’s night.


Caturday funnies

December 7, 2019


Friday happy dance

December 6, 2019


O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree

December 5, 2019


Face the music, part three

December 5, 2019

Yet another century-spanning polyphonic musical medley from Grant Woolard.


Advertisements from long, long ago — holiday edition

December 4, 2019


Wednesday weirdness

December 4, 2019

A musical meditation on overattachment to material things.

As we reach the twilight hours of our fleeting earthly time,
And know we will not see the sun tomorrow,
We may think with deep regret of all the things we leave behind,
But oh, my friends, do not give in to sorrow.

On the other shore, on the other shore,
We will reunite with all the things we ever owned before;
Our single socks will all be to their rightful pairs restored;
We’ll meet all our possessions on the other shore.

As we near those golden sidewalks floating on the clouds above,
Assuming heaven is our destination,
We may glance behind for one last look at everything we love,
But truly there’s no call for reservation.

On the other shore, on the other shore,
We’ll have piles and piles of jeans we can’t fit into anymore;
We’ll wear all those crazy cowboy shirts we got from Fred LaBour;
We’ll meet all our possessions on the other shore.

We’ll find books we bought in college and sold for half-price unread,
And sacks and sacks of earring backs lost under someone’s bed,
And baseball cards and army men and model planes galore,
And every tiny plastic high heel Barbie ever wore.

On the other shore, on the other shore,
We’ll have giant storage units free of charge for evermore;
Our tax receipts will all be saved in bags upon the floor;
We’ll meet all our possessions
On the other shore, on the other shore,
We’ll find National Geographics from 1974;

Our children’s art will cover God’s refrigerator door;
We’ll meet all our possessions on the other shore.


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