Ian Anderson
Power and Spirit
Touch down after muddy rugby in the softer evensong
Steal through open doors to heaven in angelic sing-along
Tinsel echoes in the rafters still the air in stained glass light
Our voices chaste, un-broken, pure, take manly message to the fight
I sense the power. And I sense the spirit move
In stately corridors of oak and stone, vaulted above
Beyond the nave, beside dark transepts, candles flicker in the quire
First the glow deep in the belly, tight grip of faith to fan the fire
In the chapel, I am wondrous in the eyes of lesser boys
Raptures touch me, lift me, shape me. Brotherhood, an ode to joy
Stiff white ruffs on cassock'd ranks with hand on heart and hand on sword
Elevated, born to service, to service of the Lord
I sense the path. I sense the glory road
Position, influence, my head above the earthly clod below
Follow me to serve dark Master, He whose number might be His name
Branded, burning, power unholy, just have to love Him all the same...