The still small voice is easy to ignore.
Why does love speak in this quiet voice
Underneath the bustle and the noise
Coming from it’s habitation poor
On the peak the frightened prophet heard
Hiding in a cave, while tempests shreiked
He heard god’s whispers, in this place so bleak
Absent was all life bar little little birds
Now we are cocooned with food and heat
The BBC controls the voices heard.
Jezebel is coming we must act
Lineker the prophet sends out Tweets.
Wisdom is a sparrow on the wind.
Listen to its song for we have sinned
How my heart sings 