Say Hey, Baby Dont'cha Wanna Go??

Subject: St. Paul's Wellsboro
From: wysiwyg
Date: 26 Jan 04 - 10:41 PM

People ask me what church at our place on a Saturday Night is like.

I dunno how many of YOU spend an evening with the wife washing up dinner dishes and singing/editing Anglican Chant (fitting the Phos Hilaron text to the chosen Tone) while hubby pounds the chords on a guitar. He's calling out the lines one by one the way HE thinks they might oughtta go, and she's singing them back like a singer would rather do them.... this is followed by a rousing rendition, dogs swirling around the kitchen as I sit for a short break, of SWEET HOME CHICAGO. "Is that the blues chant tone?" I ask; "let's do a blues chant. It will sound like worried chickens-- THEY have BLUE notes!"

Well, a song came along, words set to Sweet Home Chicago.

We won't do it THIS week-- got that Anglicanism workshop with the Anglican Chant we worked up over the dishes-- but NEXT week----

~S~

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The Good News-Goodtime Band waits for you,
The music's laid out and the songs are all new.

Refrain:
Say hey-- baby dontcha wanna go? (repeat as needed)
On Saturday Night, to old St. Pauls' Wellsboro?

It's quarter to seven, de bell ring soon,
But first Father Greg gotta fiddle a tune.

At seven sharp, we start up a song,
Everybody happy before too long

Then we have a little prayer, to the Blessed Trinity,
It's good for you and it's good for me.

We call upon the Light, we know we need it bad,
We 'bout to sing some more and we can't if we sad.

A happy little song, to chase away the blues
Hear the tapping of feet in every one of those pews.

The Gospel comes next, and that's seeeeerious,
But Saturday Night's all Good News for us.

We bow our heads, we commence to pray,
Invite the holy touch on every name that we say.

We might confess, then again we might not,
Depends on the season and the burdens we got.

We pass around the peace, it's easy to do,
Just shake the nearest hand that's stretched out to you.

We hear the news, of the doin's to come,
At St. Paul's God's work is never quite done.

Another sweet song, while the table is laid,
We fixin' to eat the sweetest bread ever made.

The Body and Blood, in that mystical way,
Give us strength for the hard times that come every day.

We natcherly give thanks, for the gift of our Lord,
His life, His death, His saving blood outpoured.

One last song, before we part for the night,
We'll sing it again till we all get it right.