Song of Joy

The organ blasts such great big wind-blown notes  
out into the the Sabbath's morning air  
bringing a lump to lazy laggards throats  
disturbing our Sunday slumbers there.  
 
I can hear a bass-baritone voice, voice  
words of joy ''... help the weak and curb the strong...'  
'tis such a huge thundering hopefilled noise  
to a rapidly gathering throng.  
 
Then all the bells of all the steeples ring  
out in ringing appeals in this refrain,  
''... build the road of peace before us...'' and sing  
your songs of joy in peace, again.