Slowly steals the dawn
In a grey December way
Tired night has closed her eyes
As if to say

Oh let all the world be light
Each darkened room
Wakes early
Breathes a prayer

Then hurries where
The air is cold
It's Sunday come round again
Maybe one face more or less

In church today
Oh can't you see Father John?
Oh can't you see Father John?
Miss Pringle and Miss Prendergast

And George who does the brass
To say the words they've said
For twenty years
And no-one knows or cares

Safe in the security
Of things they see and want to be
Believing in a word for growing old
Oh can't you see Father John?

No-one seems to want your words of love
Can't you see Father John?
Like the stained-glass window fathers
In last September cobwebs

God does not belong here anymore
Benediction said and done the echoes die
And silence fills the walls
High above him on the wind

The rooks sail in the torn winter sky
Just an old man with frosted hair
Believing a dream