Shadow of The Steeple by The Singing Americans

Angels On Board by The Singing Americans

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Shadow of The Steeple
by The Singing Americans

Album: Angels On Board

Sunday morning sunrise bathing the land,
Sunday morning people with Bibles in their hand,
He wonders why they pass him by,
Walk around him on the street,
To shade the light that replaced the night,
He cups his hand to see,

In the shadow of the steeple someone's crying,
Does anybody care?
Can't you hear him crying?
In the shadow of the steeple someone's crying.

The preacher talks about the needs in a distant land,
He says, "Folks are dying over there. We need to lend a hand.
It's getting late, let's pass the plate,
Just do the best you can."
Then the congregation rises for their final "Amen."

While In the shadow of the steeple someone's crying,
Does anybody care?
Can't you hear him crying?
In the shadow of the steeple someone's crying.

A cold blue steel he clutches fast,
And he points it to the place,
Where the shadow of the steeple is resting on his face,
He feels the sting,
The church bells ring as he stumbles and goes down,
But folks just shake their heads as they walk away from the figure on the ground.

While In the shadow of the steeple someone's dying,
Nobody cared.
Nobody heard him crying.
In the shadow of the steeple someone's dying.

And in the shadow of OUR steeples souls are dying.
Does anybody care?
Can't you hear them crying?
Souls are out there dying,
We need to listen for their crying,
We need to reach out to the people,
Out there underneath our steeples,
Don't let the shadow of your steeple find someone crying.