The Mauritian Badminton Doubles Champion, 1973

To write a cathedral, I'll need a ball-point pen It'll sound like 'Common People' sung by Christopher Wren On an upright piano with nice, narrow keys In a Glaswegian chapel or a Parisian library And as I sing I watch you diving Into a swimming pool that shines like a screen And I call out, 'isn't this living?' And I call out, 'isn't this living?' And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living' And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living the dream' I see my family in an ugly cemetery Two of them have been crying, two have shovels at the ready And I'd been lying if I said I'd foreseen this I'd prefer to burn my body in Varanasi As I burn I watch you driving Into a swimming pool that shines like a screen And I call out, 'isn't this living?' And I call out, 'isn't this living?' And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living' And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living' I wanted, I wanted kids getting into good schools Following, breaking all the new rules Scoring goals, leading rolеs Plimsolls, no holes In a car with nice curves A wifе with a perfect serve Just like the Mauritian Badminton Doubles Champion, 1973 Then Christopher Wren would smile down on me To a write a cathedral To a write a cathedral I'll need a ballpoint pen To a write a cathedral I'll need a ballpoint pen To a write a cathedral I'll need a ballpoint pen To a write a cathedral I'll need a ballpoint pen