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 thing 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 stain-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