Evensong (Paul O'Brien)


The congregation singing evening hymns

Arc lamps hum to light the scene

As they sweep away the rubble and the pain


Men in worn out suits who serve the press

Hammer out our stories of distress

Jaded hands dance on faded keys


While Iím standing in the shelter

Of the blindfold and the scales

They add another chapter

To our legends and our tales


A Sunday to remember in this town

With rain to wash the dust and sadness down

One more day for our calendar of tears


The organís slow vibrato high and sweet

The choir and the voices in the street

Shovels scrape in time and shake the earth


This tragic evensong

In its sad monotony

It dawned on me this evening

This is our Celtic symphony