His name is Andrew He works at the canning factory He doesn't have a friend He chooses to wait alone for his life to end When Andrew was just a little boy He learned all the words to all the hymns of joy And he sang them on Sunday And he sang them on Monday And through April and through May And he caught them say God is love, God is love And he believed them This child was Andrew He lived in a world of no sense On him the lion grinned He sang in the arms of God as he strung along When Andrew was tall and twenty-one He wandered far from God and wondered what he'd done For he still sang on Sunday Though he muddled through Monday With a silence in his head Till in jest it said God redeems, God redeems And he believed it This man was Andrew On hearing a voice he thought was stilled Returned to the arms of grace He stumbled from the arms of night into a lighted place When Andrew returned into the light He lifted his voice and sang away the night And the preacher from Sunday Heard him singing on Monday And he stopped him with a word From the dark he heard God is dead, God is dead And he believed it My name is Andrew I work at the canning factory I do not have a friend I choose to wait alone for this life to end