We are a servant,
We have a song,
The side of a beehive,
A tabernacle choir.

We are the sound
Working in wars,
The bishop is gone
To the acolyte shores.

We save our bibles,
We pull our sleeves.
The word is a guard
And the guard is a cleave.

We are the right,
We are the stay,
The accolade's gone,
We are what you say.

We have no language,
We have no chore,
The side of a beehive,
The bride is a whore.

We are a spite,
We are at bay,
The spirit is life,
We are what you say.

We have a sermon,
We have a song,
The bishop is easy,
The bishop is wrong.

The spirit is right,
The spirit will say:
We are a light,
We are what you say.