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The rectors daughter, a woman who knows her own mind.
I don’t trust her, as far as I can throw her but it wont stop me having a try.
Vicars with their vices, and priests becoming pests:
If you lay a finger on her, I’ll lay your body to rest.
In the parlour, over a game of the minister’s cat, I heard you sigh:
“I remember a six year old who danced with the sun in her eyes”.
Just because you’re feeling burnt, don’t forget the prayers we learnt.
Yet you kneel so far from me.
A warning to the curates with a twinkle in their eye;
Bell ringers singing psalms in praise of womankind;
Vergers merging work and pleasure, tempted by another measure;
If you lay a finger on her, I’ll give you something to remember.
A is the absolution,
B the blessed release,
C the confession, D the dismissal,
E for everything in between,
F is for forgiveness, G for giving you up,
H is for having the heart to remember the promises we made, I
“The Lord is my Shepherd, I’ll not want.
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; He leadeth me
The quiet waters by.”