Mother led me when I was a boynThe smells of insence, hands of safetynVicar led the congregationnHis voice still echoes under the pewsnnHalfway through the morning massnI leave to draw the gospel storiesnSunday art school, paint by numbersnOn stained glass, chapel windowsnnEnd the service in time for teanThere were ladies with beards and men with false teethnMother and I amongst the old and the old and retirednWe were the rebels and they were the choirnnI'll try and believe innTrying to see itnAll you've been telling menI can't live my life by the booknMy life's a path and I'm blindnStep by step, day by daynTake each moment, thrown my waynnFather stopped the weekly outingsnI watched the first time you drove off alonenDidn't he see I was never a priestnOr maybe he resented it was just you and mennI feel nostalgic when I think of the pastnThe hymns you sung in my memory lastnHe showed me serenity sat side by sidenI'm too shy to tell you these words I can findnnI've reminisced on how it was thennAnother reminder of how things endnOh the candles we lit, they burnt out so fastnOur lives are no different, they're not made to lastnnI'll try and believe innTrying to see itnAll you've been telling menI can't live my life by the booknMy life's a path and I'm blindnStep by step, day by daynTake each moment, thrown my way