Pardon me by The Petit Chaucers Lyrics
Verse 1 ($picy Mayo)
Around 1400, Canterbury tales are dated
They say the pardoner might have been castrated
He is the one we will describe today
My homie Greg Chaucer said he could he gay
He played the trumpet, had hair like wax
And he only preached for money, yeah he wanted them stacks
He sang offertories all for money, not for honour
Like a medieval Joel Osteen
He wore a knapsack, he had style
He came from Rome, traveled many, many miles
He had fake relics like Saint Peter's sail
And later he would tell a very spicy tale
Chorus ($picy Mayo and william$ON)
Pardon me, pardon me
Don't bother me, I'm getting money
Sing offertories, tell fancy stories
Pardon me? No, I'm the pardoner
Verse 2 (TON BOI WAYNE)
He's a sucker for material matter
He's not humble, he's not humble
To our pardoner, yeah looks really matter
Clean-shaven, no stubble, looks matter
He's corrupt, rides a medieval bus
To Canterbury, but you can't trust, no, you can't trust
He wants the benefits
Truth, he'll be bending it
Loyalty to no God
Like my atheist Uncle Todd
Bridge (K Na$ty)
He has no empathy, but lots of privilege
I hope you have pig bones on your wish list
People are no match for his thieving wit
What he sells them is fake, but it seems legit
His voice, like a mouse, it isn't booming
And he had good looks just like George Clooney
Would he save you from Hell? I'm not sure
Morals compromised, but his greed is pure
(Chorus)
Pardon me, pardon me
Don't bother me, I'm getting money
Sing offertories, tell fancy stories
Pardon me? No, I'm the pardoner
(Closing)
For 700 years, Chaucer has been dead
But his tales are not forgotten, they live on instead
Around 1400, Canterbury tales are dated
They say the pardoner might have been castrated
He is the one we will describe today
My homie Greg Chaucer said he could he gay
He played the trumpet, had hair like wax
And he only preached for money, yeah he wanted them stacks
He sang offertories all for money, not for honour
Like a medieval Joel Osteen
He wore a knapsack, he had style
He came from Rome, traveled many, many miles
He had fake relics like Saint Peter's sail
And later he would tell a very spicy tale
Chorus ($picy Mayo and william$ON)
Pardon me, pardon me
Don't bother me, I'm getting money
Sing offertories, tell fancy stories
Pardon me? No, I'm the pardoner
Verse 2 (TON BOI WAYNE)
He's a sucker for material matter
He's not humble, he's not humble
To our pardoner, yeah looks really matter
Clean-shaven, no stubble, looks matter
He's corrupt, rides a medieval bus
To Canterbury, but you can't trust, no, you can't trust
He wants the benefits
Truth, he'll be bending it
Loyalty to no God
Like my atheist Uncle Todd
Bridge (K Na$ty)
He has no empathy, but lots of privilege
I hope you have pig bones on your wish list
People are no match for his thieving wit
What he sells them is fake, but it seems legit
His voice, like a mouse, it isn't booming
And he had good looks just like George Clooney
Would he save you from Hell? I'm not sure
Morals compromised, but his greed is pure
(Chorus)
Pardon me, pardon me
Don't bother me, I'm getting money
Sing offertories, tell fancy stories
Pardon me? No, I'm the pardoner
(Closing)
For 700 years, Chaucer has been dead
But his tales are not forgotten, they live on instead