Sackcloth and Ashes

Sackcloth and ashes, and days without eating,
Mortification and wailing and weeping,
A hair shirt that scratches, a nettle that stings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Penitence, flagellants, memento mori,
Spending nights sleeping on rocks in a quarry,
The sound of a cloak'd solemn cantor who sings,
These are still more of my favorite things.

Tossing and turning and yearning I'm spurning,
Passions aflame like an ember-day burning,
Corpus and carnis and wild drunken flings,
Forsaken are they for my favorite things!

When it's Christmas,
When the tree's lit,
When the cards are sent,
I simply remember my favorite things,
And then I can't wa-a-a-a-it till Lent!

(Tune similar to My Favorite Things)