His name is Andrew He works in a 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 knew all the words to all the hymns of joy And he sang them on Sunday And he sang them on Monday And in April and in May And he heard them say God is love God is love And he believed them This child was Andrew He lived in a world of innocence On him the lion grinned He sang in the arms of God As he strummed the wind When Andrew was tall and twenty-one He wandered 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 Hearing a voice he thought was stilled Back to the arms of grace He stumbled through darkened woods To a night place When Andrew returned to love and 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 in a canning factory I do not have a friend I choose to wait alone For this life to end