Lyrics:
While the Angelus was ringing
Calling for the evening pray'r
I could hear the choir singing and
I saw you standing there
Silently I stood beside you
One. Exterior.
Cathedral. Daylight. Establishing it's beauty in elevation, stain
Glass and stone carvings. From its huge doors suddenly comes
My cathedral has a ceiling of blue my cathedral neath the sky
Where I may lift up my eyes unto the hills
And hear music from a stream rippling by
artist and I pawned off the easel
Spend it all searching for God at the neon cathedral
Wouldn't miss it for the world
Baptized my vices and the bar is
or reverence
Stirring warmth and covenant
Lost, I'm in
'Til this kisses grief
The serpent and the choir
Whilst tombs and blooms ink dust
It's faint this
Hmm's, la-la's
Boys choir softly sings
Roots to branches.
Roots to branches.
Roots to branches.
In wet and windy priest-holes.
Grand in vast cathedrals.
High on lofty minarets
Or in
glistening.
Roots to branches.
Roots to branches.
Roots to branches.
In wet and windy priest-holes.
Grand in vast cathedrals.
High on lofty
My cathedral has a ceiling of blue my cathedral neath the sky
Where I may lift up my eyes unto the hills
And hear music from a stream rippling by
(Murder in the Cathedral)
Another Sunday sermon,
The lord this, and the demon that.
As the choirs sings
you cant hear the chains.
Blood flows
believers
Filled with God's holy fire
It's every tribe, every tongue, every nation
A love song born of a grateful choir
It's all God's children singing
at the neon cathedral
Wouldn't miss it for the world
Baptized my vices and the bar is my church
Traded my artist and I pawned off the easel
Spend it all
cathedrals singing
You'll know when it's the quarter hour
Fresh picked read flowers sweet smelling showers
Of late September golden rain
Midnights prayers so softly whispered in
A Cathedral's candle light
Bring the message of the holidays
On a snowy Christmas night
Holly reeds
taken to be blessed
In that little old cathedral in the pines.
He grew up and joined the choir,
Where the organ played each day.
And he found his
to branches
Roots to branches
In wet and windy priest holes, grand in vast cathedrals
High on lofty minarets or in a temples of doom
I hope the old man's
Oooh, Winchester Cathedral, you're bringin' me down
You stood and you watched as my baby left town
You coulda done somethin', hey, you didn't try
believers
Filled with God's holy fire
It's every tribe, every tongue, every nation
A love song born of a grateful choir
It's all God's children singing
So tired
Soul searching
I followed the sounds to a cathedral
Imagine my surprise to find that they were produced by Brian Eno
Past the gates
I hear a voice so sweet and low the voice in the old village choir
It sings to me of long ago the voice in the old village choir
In dreams I drift
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