God cage the songbird
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Before the feathers run brown
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God bar the windows
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That we may though hollow be sound
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And this island shall be shackled to her waters
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Here we vow never to change
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Here we will stand at last for something
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With no desire to pretend
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Send up our prayers to gilded idols
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Their names etched in heartwood of palm
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And scatter the ashes of the contracts
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Their freedom so hollow a song
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God cage the songbird
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Before the feathers run brown
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God bar the windows
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That we may though hollow be sound
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Now the street lamp will be tethered to her station
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As the poor man is tethered to the flesh
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The wise man will be tethered to his wisdom
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As the mother is tethered to her creche
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Was your hunger your awareness of salvation
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As your chances go slipping to the past
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You're tortured by the changing of the seasons
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And each grain of sand in the glass
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God cage the songbird
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Before the feathers run brown
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God bar the windows
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That we may though hollow be sound
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Cage The Songbird
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| The Low Anthem |
