St. Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues (Live from seated performance, Kingston UK)

Stained-glass and the sing out that strong and ceaseless here.

So sweet the voices, sweep like leaves into the street.

On Eastern, 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

Through the sixties flourished and the seventies in flux.

The eighties fluctuate each year unclear of 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.

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.

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.