Hymn for the Church of Crows

I decided to try and write a hymn, this was the result. I'm not sure how many school assemblies will pop it in their hymn sheets after Make Me A Channel Of Your Peace. But, then, this is Greville and the Tombstones so I'm not that fussed. This is for the congregation of the Church of Crows.

This is:

Hymn for the Church of Crows:

Knocking at the church door:

“I want to talk to you about Jesus”

I’m not waving here.

I’m not waving.

My patched up prayer is leaking.

 

They say my body is a copy every 7 years.

But each copy is slightly more imperfect.

I am not already damaged enough?

 

Jesus, why am I tested,

When I’m set up to fail?

Told not to touch temptation,

then it’s placed on the tip of my finger?

You know,

I’m going to ask Satan for the answer.

 

Preacher at the church door,

I want to talk to you about Jesus.

I’m not waving here.

I’m not waving.

My patched up prayer is leaking.

 

In this church yard I’ll soon turn quiet.

Under letters of stone, my life done.

Can I not live what life remains?

 

Jesus, why am I living,

when life isn’t too fair?

Told to be pious, devout and pure,

then reward me when I’m boxed under?

You know,

I’m going to ask Satan for the answer.

 

Through stained-glass windows,

I want to talk to you about Jesus

I’m not waving here.

I’m not waving.

My patched up prayer is leaking.

 

Cruel gloom exists as our executioner.

After my Judgement comes a verdict.

Will my defence to the jury be read?

 

Jesus, why have I faith,

When you don’t believe it?

Jesus, you don’t get my situation

Jesus, I think maybe Satan may be kinder.

You know,

I’m going to ask Satan for the answer.