Steeple piercing sky, you left the cathedral door cracked for the hunched-back,
For people like me, too feeble to turn handle, never nimble, none-too-quick,
And here there is an altar at which to pray, night and day, whatever one has to say,
And God must be listening from vaulted heaven, ne’er assaulted by cries from below
In tragic humanity’s last great show, throwing caution to the wind at every bend,
So does this poor man kneel and whisper, hushed tone echoing across stone floor
Before rising like incense to throne of truth and justice, with soul-deep moans,
Thank you for leaving cathedral door cracked neath steeple grand and imposing