St. Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues
Stained-glass and the choir sing out
That strong and ceaseless chorus here
So sweet the voices, sweep like
Leaves into the street, on Easter
A celebration, carried on
For God and hope and refuge
To keep each other, life
Give shelter from the storm (And keep warm)
The congregation gathers
Outside in the parking lot
Each service done, they keep the old hymn
Rolling on and on, and
I see the scene in color each day
Driving out to Eastown
That old abandoned church
And have I gone the same sad way?
Have I gone the same sad way?
Through the sixties flourished
And the seventies did flux
The eighties fluctuate each year
Unclear when the money would dry up
And when the nineties
Violent crime and rising
Unemployment rates came by
That parking lot grew dim and thin
Of sinners and saints
Until the voices
Unceasing, slowly faded to black
Until the weeds stormed the concrete
From unattended cracks
It had to know, had to feel that glory
Never coming back
Like I could feel it when the passion left
The last of what I had
It had to know
Like I knew
And I can’t find it back
Might not ever
Ten years now, standing vacant
Ten years on empty, maybe more
Once held the faith of hundreds
Soon one more cell phone store
For years, they gathered here
Inside the building, sound and true
To sing their praises to a god
That gave them hope, to carry on
To carry through
So I’ve been thinking about that
Sometimes go slow when I drive by
How a home of stone and a house so holy
Grows so empty over time
What gave those people purpose
Past death approaching constantly
Now left to crumble slowly
Now left to wither with the weeds
Now left to ice and vandals
The advent candles long since gone
The old foundation shifting hard
The concrete overgrown, but
That stained-glass window
Sits untouched amongst the brickwork worn
A symbol of the beauty
Only perfect at that moment we were born
And just the other day
I swear I saw a man there
Pulling weeds out of the concrete
Sweeping up and patching cracks