By Jamie Saint Anthony

Good Saint Pat in days of yore
stood stalwart on the Irish shore
and drove all snakes from Eire’s green sod
(and did so by the power of God!)

How wonderful and grand ‘twould be
if God would raise a saint for we
who from the church and state would drive
all snake and vermin now alive- into the sea…

I’d voice a hymn- if I could see one bishop swim!


By Jamie Saint Anthony

See Me come to save the world
born in Bethlehem
Of the fragrant, Mystic Rose
of that rose the Stem

See me follow Joseph’s word
working with my hands
See Me, the very Son of God
obey a son of man

See Me now condemned to die
see Me take the cross
See Me walk to Calvary
see Me fill your loss

See Me fastened to the wood
see Me lifted high
See them laugh and spit at Me
see My Mother cry

See her meekly standing there
see her spirit ache
See the sword of sorrow plunge
see her poor heart break

See the nails inside my hands
see them cruelly torn
See My tortured, injured feet
see My crown of thorn

See the wounds the scourging gave
see Me do your part
See Me drink the chalice dry
see My bleeding Heart

Yes, see My child where I am-
nailed upon a tree!
Now tell Me, dearest little one
who loves you more than ME?


By Jamie Saint Anthony

My Jesus, once again I come
pleading grace from Thee
Behold Thy lost and lonely child
be merciful to me

I know there have been many times
that I’ve rejected Thee
But still, with contrite heart I beg
be merciful to me

Amid temptations, doubts and fears
I still remember Thee
And cry with sorrow keen and true
be merciful to me

Sweet Saviour, see my sorry state
how I have need of Thee
And in Thy loving kindness, oh
be merciful to me

For ‘neath Thy cross I kneel, dear Christ
and give my heart to Thee
Oh, for Thy bleeding, broken Heart
be merciful to me

Yes, from Thy cross bend down, my Lord
forever I praise Thee
And give Thee thanks, because Thou art
So merciful to me!



By Jamie Saint Anthony

Why did they change it?
Oh, please tell me why!
From Tridentine richness
To English so dry

From candles and incense
and beautiful smells
From vestments and statues
and heavenly bells

From marble and velvet
and silver and gold
From silence and music
and truths rightly told

To plywood and plastic
and big, ugly rugs
To giggles and, oh yes
compulsory hugs

To priests wearing bed sheets
and preaching of fun
And heretics pleased to
be flapping their gums

To nuns without habits
(they’ve eschewed the veil
One sees by their actions
they’d rather be male)

To music so banal
it can’t lift the heart
Three notes and a chord change
(they call this stuff art?)

To lay people touching
the once Sacred Host
This sacrilege now is
their favorite boast

To standing and sitting
where once we had knelt
To Masses for kiddies
and banners of felt

To sermons that sadden
the Heart of the Lord
Whose Mother’s rejected
Whose laws are ignored

To scandal on scandal
Oh, dear Lord how long?
The Church is a shambles —
Something’s drastically wrong!

The Novus Ordo (nervous Disorder)
that now rules the day
That empties the churches
but says it’s the way

That decimates Orders
that cannot make saints
That does not proclaim
the true Catholic Faith

Has shown us all one thing
undoubtedly true:


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