The Saviour in the Shawl (We Still Sing)

The Saviour in the Shawl (We Still Sing)

It's the old familiar music for the thousandth time

and the songs are snowflakes whirling round the Word.

In two thousand years the writers have run out of rhyme,

since a baby's cry in Bethlehem was heard.

And all the songs are old ones and the story's still the same.

and there's nothing new that we can say at all.

And every year, the snow comes for a shorter stay

and fewer seek the Saviour in the shawl.

I sometimes wonder why the Dayspring chose the night

to bring salvation to the stable door.

Perhaps because we need it most when there's no light

and the powerful forget about the poor.

And now I find my faith has failed from year to year,

and my heart has lost the hope it used to hold.

But if Christ comes to Creation, then you'll find him here -

when dawn is distant and the night is cold.

But we still sing,

because the night’s still so lonely.

We still sing,

and the poor still feel the pain

We still sing

for every birth is a beginning,

and hope is in a mother's arms again.

The songs speak more of sorrow than salvation now,

and it hurts my heart to hear 'O Holy Night.'

The lamp of faith burns lower now from hour to hour.

Its flame will never last until the light.

But if this lonely vigil's what we have to keep,

and there's no-one there to hear us when we call,

we'll hold the hand of Heaven and we'll let him sleep

and clasp him all the closer in the shawl.

But we still sing,

because the night’s still so lonely.

We still sing,

and the poor still feel the pain

We still sing

for every birth is a beginning,

and hope is in a mother's arms again.