LORD OF OUR CITY

Lord of our city we bring you its pain,
The muggings, the dole queues, the lift's bust again,
The fear of each stranger and no-where to play,
The waiting for buses at the start of each day.

Lord of our homeless we bring you their cry
The waiting on promises - pie in the sky,
The red tape and questions and sent on their way
The sense of frustration at the noon of the day.

Lord of all races, all colours of skin,
Please make us fight racism, help us begin
To see how our prejudice colours the way
We treat friends and neighbours at the end of the day.

Lord of our whole lives, we bring them to you.
We're powerless, defeated, 'til you make us new.
Then powered by your Spirit, we go on once more
With news of your wholeness, good news to the poor.

(Words: Jane Galbraith Tune: Slane c. Jane Galbraith)