It streams beautiful music from a painter's church
A boy plays the bass, a night when no one is at home
And the organ is his life and the music his strength
He loves all the cantos, Willy Pappas, football
When all the people sleep in the yard and in the cottage
They dress up in the same clothes as they did before
In the quiet of the summer evening, he plays a fugue
Until the best is seen, as he knows, a bridge that springs out
And the church, once more, dances in honor of the day
When the church bells sound, a congregation listens
His veins are clear, his body listens scarcely
Who has the wonderful cantos in his chest
To two chords he calls music in his church
Where Pappas plays his brother's postcard to the agent
He dreams of a choir, of his own bass church
He will get his keys up, as always in the past
Then he wants all the cables from the garden and the cottage
Then he will play for them on his first concert
Then he starts with the beat and ends with the fugue
And everyone will think they are just as beautiful
When the church, once more, dances in honor of the day
When the church bells sound, a congregation listens
His veins are clear, his body listens scarcely
Who has the wonderful cantos in his chest
Then he wants all the cables from the garden and the cottage
Then he will play for them on his first concert
Then he starts with the beat and ends with the fugue
And everyone will think they are just as beautiful
When the church, once more, dances in honor of the day
When the church, once more, dances in honor of the day