To the tune of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down.”
Fournier is the name
Of the hero of Notre Dame.
In the midst of the flames
He was the man of the hour again.
Determined and unafraid,
This chaplain of the fire brigade
Rushed into the holocaust,
So the holy relics were not lost.
The night they burned Our Lady down.
The telephones were ringing.
The night they burned Our Lady down.
The anti-Christians were singing.
They went, “Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah.”
Like the outrages before it,
This one has a very bad smell.
It’s not enough to deplore it.
It has to be studied well.
They’re looking at a conclusion
That it was an accident,
Drawing certainty from confusion.
I’m sorry, but I have to say
It looks like credibility spent.
The night they burned Our Lady down.
The telephones were ringing.
The night they burned Our Lady down.
The anti-Christians were singing.
They went, “Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah.”
The night they burned Our Lady down.
The telephones were ringing.
The night they burned Our Lady down.
The anti-Christians were singing.
They went, “Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah.”