We were holding onto the Cathedral
Like it was some kind of sin
And all the pigeon martyrs
Sent up their prayers on the wing
Coo cooing in tongues with the saint
The Angels could do with a lick of paint
But gossamer trees will shake
In their Spider web chandeliers
And stand like white skeletons remembering
Did the bough break
The baby fall?
Did they lop off a limb
When England's Head of State
Cut off the body of the Church
Like a hand of an octopus
It grew again in its watery garden
And we saw the car crash photos
Of your tumble
From a tight rope of consciousness
Into the dream scape
Where there are no trees, nor obstacles
Just miles of sea in which to swim
No they did not lop off a limb
They freed living being
Halleilulia to that
Amen
