God cage the songbird   Before the feathers run brown   God bar the windows   That we may though hollow be sound      And this island be shackled to her waters   Here we vow never to change   Here we will stand at last for something   With no desire to pretend      Send up our prayers to gilded idols   Their names etched in heartwood of palm   And scatter the ashes of the contracts   Their freedom so hollow a song      God cage the songbird   Before the feathers run brown   God bar the windows   That we may though hollow be sound      And the street lamp will be tethered to her station   The poor man be tethered to the flesh   The wise man be tethered to his wisdom   The mother be tethered to her creche      Was your hunger your awareness of salvation   As your chances go slipping to the past   You're tortured by the changing of the seasons   And each grain of sand in the glass      God cage the songbird   Before the feathers run brown   God bar the windows   That we may though hollow be sound