Would you sing
In the bay
Taste the scent
Of sprouted hay?
Would you wait
Under pass
See the smell
Of fresh-cut grass?
Would you come
In my arms
Bear the graze
Of my rough palms?
Would you sit
In my lap
Feel my lips
Your freedom trap?
Would you yield
In my bed
Get those dreams
Gone from your head?
Would you sit
In front pew
Wait and hear
The service through?
Would you climb
On the cross
Give to me,
Not call it loss?
Would you singe
Your young skin,
Say Bless me, Father,
For I’ve known sin?
Would you lie
In your grave,
Let my service
Your soul save?
Would you haunt
In my dream
Your knees raw
On serpent’s whim?
Would you rise
Saviour of drouth,
Take the host
Into your sinful mouth?
