The Mauritian Badminton Doubles Champion, 1973

To write a cathedral, I'll need a ball-point pen
It'll sound like 'Common People' sung by Christopher Wren
On an upright piano with nice, narrow keys
In a Glaswegian chapel or a Parisian library

And as I sing I watch you diving
Into a swimming pool that shines like a screen

And I call out, 'isn't this living?'
And I call out, 'isn't this living?'
And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living'
And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living the dream'

I see my family in an ugly cemetery
Two of them have been crying, two have shovels at the ready
And I'd been lying if I said I'd foreseen this
I'd prefer to burn my body in Varanasi

As I burn I watch you driving
Into a swimming pool that shines like a screen

And I call out, 'isn't this living?'
And I call out, 'isn't this living?'
And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living'
And you call back, 'Jim, dear, it's living'

I wanted, I wanted kids getting into good schools
Following, breaking all the new rules
Scoring goals, leading rolеs
Plimsolls, no holes
In a car with nice curves
A wifе with a perfect serve

Just like the Mauritian Badminton Doubles Champion, 1973
Then Christopher Wren would smile down on me

To a write a cathedral

To a write a cathedral
I'll need a ballpoint pen
To a write a cathedral
I'll need a ballpoint pen
To a write a cathedral
I'll need a ballpoint pen
To a write a cathedral
I'll need a ballpoint pen