Morning has broken, like the first morning. Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird. Praise for the singing, praise for the morning, Praise for them springing fresh from the Word. Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlight from heaven. Like the first dewfall, on the first grass. Praise for the sweetnes of the wet garden, Sprung in completeness where His feet pass. Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning. Born of the one light Eden saw play. Praise with elation, praise every morning; God's recreation of the new day. Morning has broken, like the first morning. Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird. Praise for the singing, praise for the morning, Praise for them springing fresh from the Word.

Run - heart in my mouth Run so hard that it beats And repeats in my head like a gun East - west, north and south No direction to go But I know that the ending's begun I know I made a mistake coming here again But I had to remind myself of where and When We threw off our chains Hid ourselves in ourselves from the world And its organised hell Now - nothing remains Barely a trace of the place where I knew Him well Down Down he said get on the floor And stay well away from the door Or someone will see us for sure And I Loved him like no-one before Princess madonna and whore Kept comig back for more Run - goodness know where I'm a poor refugee And I might as well be on the moon Still why should I care? I had it all in one grand afternoon Down Down he said get on the floor And stay well away from the door Or someone will see us for sure And I Loved him like no-one before Princess madonna and whore Kept comig back for more I Feeling the death and decay Didn't expect him to stay Stay with me Julia stay But I Only remember that day As ruler of all I survey And nothing can take that away

WHOSO PULLETH OUT THIS SWORD FROM THIS STONE AND ANVIL, IS THE TRUE- BORN KING OF ALL BRITAIN ARTHUR Upon a New Year's day A host of knights did pray That from the anvil one could draw the sword. As each knight took his turn They found the anvil, held it firm; None worthy of a future King and Lord. Sir Kay the bravest knight Appeared to try his might He dreamed of being King, as all the rest To Arthur Sir Kay called to search And bring for him a sword In earnest Arthur set about his quest. A churchyard in the wood The sword and anvil stood And Arthur drew the sword out of the stone The anvil now defeated His quest for the sword completed A sword that was to place him on the throne A sword that was to place him on the throne. Sir Hector and Sir Kay saw the sword And knelt to pray Then gently took it from young Arthur's hand They marvelled at his quest Proclaiming to the rest Arthur is the King of all this land Arthur the King of all this land.

Ah, look at all the lonely people Ah, look at all the lonely people Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice In the church where a wedding has been Lives in a dream Waits at the window, wearing the face That she keeps in a jar by the door Who is it for? All the lonely people Where do they all come from? All the lonely people Where do they all belong? Father McKenzie, writing the words Of a sermon that no one will hear No one comes near Look at him working, darning his socks In the night when there's nobody there What does he care? All the lonely people Where do they all come from? All the lonely people Where do they all belong? Ah, look at all the lonely people Ah, look at all the lonely people Eleanor Rigby, died in the church And was buried along with her name Nobody came Father McKenzie, wiping the dirt From his hands as he walks from the grave No one was saved All the lonely people (Ah, look at all the lonely people) Where do they all come from? All the lonely people (Ah, look at all the lonely people) Where do they all belong?