‘blog van Brambonius’

maart 5, 2009

The first time that I went to church (Larry Norman)

Filed under: Christendom, filosofie, theologie, verhalen — Tags: , , — brambonius @ 10:16 am

The first time that I went to church was on a Sunday morning

And from what I’d heard, I figured I’d spend me whole time yawning

At 18 years of age or so, I thought I knew it all

Me hair was long, me jeans were tight

 I loved a knife and buckle fight

Provided mates stood left and right

And those we fought were small

But me mates and me, we’d never been,

so off to church we filed

We marched inside, about three abreast

Straight down the middle aisle

Some of us were smokin’ cigs;

Ron was sucking candies

We sat in what they call a “pew”

Then looked around to see just who’d come inside

Let me tell you, everyone dressed like dandies

And the row behind was full of dames

You shoulda seen their looks!

And one old dear, she gives me a smile

And offers me some books Tah!

We open ‘em, pass ‘em around

You shoulda seen the words, all set out like poetry is

And Sam says through his lemon fizz

“These books is fer the birds”

“Shhhh! Tsk tsk tsk tsk!”

One old lady says And the whole place buzzed

And Sam turns around and says

 “Oh do hush up, you make more noise than us”

We looked around the building then It really was revealing

Sam says, “Hey mates, I get the score

“There ain’t no carpets on the floor

“Look at the rafters; they’re so poor they can’t afford a ceiling

 “Can’t afford electric either; using candles everywhere”

“Shut your face,” I says to Sam, “I’m be listening”

 So was Ron And from the left, without a noise

Came a line of little boys And Sam says, in a puzzled voice,

 “Coo, they’ve all got nighties on”

Then came men, in robes and banners

 “Look at that one, must be queer “

And they dare condemn us for the way we choose our gear?”

And then there’s the minister, who’s job’s to preach

The Minister Whats-his-name

 Those real long prayers, and what he preaches

Sounds just about the same

 I came to church to listen — close

But I can’t understand their chatter

 It’s like “mumble, mumble, shifting sinking sands”

And words like judgment or reprimand

Well, me and me mates can’t understand talk quite like that

I’m used to talking with me mates

With words that has a meaning

If people like that sort of stuff…

Well, let them, that’s okay

But let me tell you what I feel

I feel we need someone who’ll deal in words and thoughts

And things that’s real — I’d listen to what he’d say

Me mum once said, “Son, Jesus came to help young men like you”

 But Jesus came so long ago,

Mum, and I don’t think it’s true

But is there anyone here, right now, who can explain to me

Is Christ a myth?

A madman’s whim?

Some say Christ can cure our sin I

s there a way to contact Him?

 Or will I die not knowing how?

Listen, I only came to church to see if they could offer hope

But everything that happened there was way outside my scope

Like afterwards, outside, was a beggar on the grass

He held out his hand, and people’d smile, then they’d pass

I’m sure he reached for something real

For something more than cash

He begged them for a little cheer

And they all pretended not to hear I get the message,

Loud and clear:

 

Church is middle-class.

(Larry Norman, street level LP 1970)

2 reacties »

  1. Reactie door FailedAngle — september 23, 2010 @ 11:53 pm

  2. DTI SIM

    The first time that I went to church (Larry Norman) | ‘blog van Brambonius’

    Trackback door DTI SIM — november 10, 2016 @ 9:44 am


RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Geef een reactie

Vul je gegevens in of klik op een icoon om in te loggen.

WordPress.com logo

Je reageert onder je WordPress.com account. Log uit / Bijwerken )

Twitter-afbeelding

Je reageert onder je Twitter account. Log uit / Bijwerken )

Facebook foto

Je reageert onder je Facebook account. Log uit / Bijwerken )

Google+ photo

Je reageert onder je Google+ account. Log uit / Bijwerken )

Verbinden met %s

Blog op WordPress.com.

%d bloggers op de volgende wijze: