Verse 1] It was Sunday morning in our town And I sat on they steps and I stared at the ground And I bowed my head while they shuffled past All the saints being called to the morning mass [Chorus] And off in the distance there rang a bell Way off in the distance there rang a bell And it rang for saints and the sinners as well Way off in the distance there rang a bell [Verse 2] I remember the lessons of Sunday school And I can't help but think, maybe I'm the fool But I see no sign of a greater plan Just the joy and sorrow of my fellow man [Chorus] And off in the distance there rang a bell Way off in the distance there rang a bell And it rang for saints and the sinners as well Way off in the distance there rang a bell [Bridge] And here we stand while life rushes past Between the first breath and the last And here we stand between East and West And here we stand between birth and death [Verse 3] I was watching the news the other night There was a war on the Left, there was a war on the Right And it's no surprise that it's us or them It's a long way from heaven to Bethlehem [Chorus] And off in the distance there rang a bell Way off in the distance there rang a bell And it rang for saints and the sinners as well Way off in the distance there rang a bell ©David Francey 1999 You may also ike - https://soundcloud.com/gaz29-1/the-phezants-tail-talk-turkey-the-meaning-of-christmas

To have turned to the East is then to be Conscious of the chaos behind the plan, Mindful of the terror behind the calm, Eyeful of darkness in lit Western cities; Now I’m called at last to God’s own country Disbelieving in switch and tap and fan, A Western, hygienic, jetted Dis-Man Orientated by your love of me... In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan Earth stood hard as iron Water like a stone Snow had fallen Snow on snow, snow on snow In the bleak midwinter Long ago Heaven cannot hold him, nor Earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign. In then bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed The Lord God almighty, Jesus Christ. Angels and Archangels May have gathered there Cherubim and Seraphim Thronged the air But his Mother only In her maiden bliss Worshiped the beloved With a kiss What can I give him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would give a lamb If I were a wise man I would do my part What I can I give him Give him my heart.

Love buried me alive in here, A dead they’ll never raise The maid a parish comes to love, A movement comes to praise. No motion have I now, my course Is inward, grave and still; The church behind my every move, The tomb my anchored will. ‘They plead with parrot prayers -’ 'O hush. In silence are no lies. These dreads and longings come to dust. The spirit never dies.' ‘I’m out of here if that’s your tale, My column talks the town. I’ll lose my pitch, my job, my mind, I’ve got to nail them down.’ ‘O frightened child, just run to Him,’ I’m not like you – you’re dead! ‘Dead to the world yet still attached, All shall be well, He said.' ‘He showed into my mind a nut.’ I’m seeing one, they grin ‘In it we seek its maker, rest Where there no rest is in.’ ‘You saw Eternity last May Through Death’s wedged-open door!?’ ‘This crucifix - like rain from eaves, I saw its hot blood pour.’ ‘I saw in sixteen shewings how We must – we can - abide Dis-ease, travail and storm, for we’re The thorn in God’s soft side. ‘Which side is that?’ ‘His female side’ ‘The Trinity has another?’ ‘Christ bears us all upon His breast, His wound’s our womb and mother. ‘O frightened child, just run to him,’ I’m not like you – you’re dead! ‘Dead to the world yet still attached, All shall be well, He said.'

Instrumental.

Of all the money that e'er I had I have spent it in good company Oh and all the harm I've ever done Alas, it was to none but me And all I've done for want of wit To memory now I can't recall So fill to me the parting glass Good night and joy be to you all So fill to me the parting glass And drink a health whate'er befalls Then gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all Of all the comrades that e'er I had They're sorry for my going away And all the sweethearts that e'er I had They would wish me one more day to stay But since it fell into my lot That I should rise and you should not I'll gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all So fill to me the parting glass And drink a health whate'er befalls Then gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all But since it fell into my lot That I should rise and you should not I'll gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all So fill to me the parting glass And drink a health whate'er befalls Then gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you all Good night and joy be to you all Songwriters: Trad / David Anthony Downes

As I went down to the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the star and crown Good Lord, show me the way ! O sisters let's go down, Let's go down, come on down, O sisters let's go down, Down in the river to pray. As I went down to the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the robe and crown Good Lord, show me the way ! O brothers let's go down, Let's go down, come on down, Come on brothers let's go down, Down in the river to pray. As I went down to the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the robe and crown Good Lord, show me the way ! O mothers let's go down, Come on down, don't you want to go down, Come on mothers, let's go down, Down in the river to pray. As I went down to the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the starry crown Good Lord, show me the way ! O fathers let's go down, Let's go down, come on down, O fathers let's go down, Down in the river to pray. As I went down to the river to pray Studying about that good old way And who shall wear the star and crown Good Lord, show me the way ! O sinners let's go down, Let's go down, come on down, O sinners let's go down, Down in the river to pray.

I wassailed with the best of them, but in the long watches of the night I was troubled at our sacking and burning a church. And that night Hereward had a vision. He saw standing by him a man of indescribable form, terrible of aspect, in clothes more remarkable than anything he had seen or imagined, threatening him with a great golden key carried in his hand, and with a terrible injunction that he should restore in their entirety all those belongings of his church which he had taken on the past night, if he wished to provide for his own safety and escape a miserable death the next day.On waking, Hereward was seized with a holy terror ad the same hour returned everything he had taken away, including the holy Word-breaking Abbot Turold and then with all his men he departed. For not even a Hereward can look upon the gatekeeper of Heaven, without pause. (harp plays a storm) On our journey we went astray in the night from the right road into the deep woods of Rockingham Forest and a terrible storm. But a marvellous thing happened as we strayed. A huge wolf came in front of us, fawning upon us like a tame dog, and walked before us. Thinking the wolf in the darkness to be a white dog, we followed the animal closely, believing it had come from some town. Just as we emerged from our lost path and recognised our right road, a silence fell which not even the roar of the storm could comprehend, and gthere appeared flames like candles on our lances and on the trees , like those which the common people call Fairy Lights. Nothing the storm could blow at them could disturb the stillness of the flames nor could any man shake them off or put them out. (harp now heavenly) At dawn to our astonishment, we discovered that wolf had been our guide. Some if us recognised as the night wolf of St Edmund, the real patron saint of England, between whose paws the saint's severed head had once been found, before reuniting with its body. While we marvelled, the wolf disappeared and the flames went out, and we came to the place we had intended, beyond Stamford. Seeing that the journey had been prosperously accomplished I gave thanks to God and still do for... The Miracle of St Peter's Candles

So the year turns, Mother Christmas. the fairy bulbs grow into the gloom and we are once again at the solstice. Puritans have always demanded that we should ‘put back’ the Christ into Christmas, Father Knowall. Pagans counter that ‘Christ Mass’ has much more to do with the winter solstice. Solstice celebration was certainly there first. Stonehenge, raised at the turn of the Neolithic and Bronze Age, predates the ‘first’ Christmas (in Bethlehem) by thousands of years. The spooky Scandinavian festival of St Lucy (Dec 21st,) at ‘the year’s deep midnight’ led by girls wearing white robes with red sashes preserves remote memories of how the frozen north celebrated the winter solstice with large bonfires to scare off evil spirits and turn back the course of the sun. As you look out of your hostelries at the fairy lights, that Christmas cheer-in-the-dark comes from a tradition much nearer Bergen than Bethlehem. True, the Biblical God comes to earth in a stable surrounded by animals, farm workers, angels and wise men with gifts. But nowhere in the Bible does it tell Christians to celebrate that birth on the 25th December. In fact the first December Christmas wasn’t until 350 AD when Pope Julius I established it on Mithras’s birthday, the last day of the Roman Saturnalia, a midwinter holiday when work was suspended, the moral and social order was upended, and gifts were exchanged. There is not a verse in the Bible about holly, ivy, mediaeval geese, Victorian turkeys, German fir trees, mulled wine, mince pies, Christmas Eve ghost stories, robins or Santa. The word ‘Christmas’ never occurs. Like Christmas puddings, pies and trifles, it is a mediaeval invention. More Saxon ‘Mess’ (feast) than Latin ‘Missa’ (a service). 'Mince' pies are Elizabethan. Their suet, dried fruit and spices ‘minced’ into the meat were regarded as so indulgently ‘pagan’ that Oliver Cromwell passed an Act of Parliament authorising the imprisonment of anyone found guilty of eating a currant pie. Oh no he didn’t! In 1650, he was away defeating the real killjoys – the Covenant-bashing Scots – at Dunbar, in the service of a Puritan government whose intolerance often exasperated him – ‘what keep wine out of the country lest men be drunk!’ But this is where our folk-memory that 'Cromwell cancelled Christmas’ comes from. Let’s talk turkey, a Tudor innovation and one of Henry VIII’s less controversial cuts. But only after Scrooge sent a big one to Bob Cratchit did the turkeys really start voting for Christmas. Unlike most of our modern Christmas traditions, turkey isn’t German, Nordic or American in origin. Germany tucks in to roast goose and carp served with Gluwein while Icelanders feast on Gammon steak, herring and reindeer. In America, from which it was introduced to Europe by the Spanish in the sixteenth century, a turkey dinner is more associated with November Thanksgiving. Some believe Goose is a more authentic choice but the old folk rhyme is against them. At Christmas a capon, at Michaelmas a goose And somewhat else at New Year’s tide, for feare the lease flies loose. Geese were released into the stubble fields at Michaelmas to fatten up on the dropped grain. Poor farmers often paid their landlords in geese. So, gentlemen, your authentic Christmas dinner is capon - a castrated cock! St Boniface cut down an oak in anger – some German pagans were worshipping it - and a fir tree (symbolising Christianity) sprang up from the roots. European tree worship survived in the Scandinavian custom of decorating the Christian house and barn with evergreens at the New Year to scare away the devil. Germans still set up a Paradise Tree in their homes on Dec 24, the feast day of Adam and Eve, hanging it with communion wafers and candles (now cookies) as the symbol of Christ. But it was not until Prince Albert of the Victoria and Albert Museum, brought it to England in 1840 that it took over the British living room. Oh no it wasn’t! It was Good Queen Charlotte, German wife of George III, in 1800. Not to mention the ancient British druids who used holly and mistletoe as symbols of eternal life and placed evergreen branches over doors to keep away evil spirits. Santa wears red instead of the authentic Christmas/solstice green of Gawain and the Green Knight because of coca cola. Oh no he doesn’t! That change to red precedes coca cola by over a decade. The holly king fought the oak king for rulership of the year. Its fresh green leaves and bright berries signify the green of growth and fertility – also represented by mistletoe - and the red of blood, a reminder of the springtime to come. Christianity added the blood and crown of thorns of a love that dies for others. And a spirit of generosity. Let’s raise a glass of mulled wine to the sainted fourth century Bishop of Myra, thanks to whom Christmas really does have its roots in Turkey. Sinterklass. Saint Nicholas. Santa. (December 6 is his day) He believed in giving gifts to children as a way of adding enjoyment to their fleeting childhood. An old British folk tale has it that when Jesus was on His way to Calvary, a robin picked a thorn out of his crown, and the blood which issued from the wound falling on the bird dyed its breast red. The robin was originally Thor’s bird – and no real robin ever sang in Palestine - but this legendary bird surely flies higher and sings more sweetly in these Christian versions. The 'Christ' was definitely an addition to the original pagan mess/feast. But it adds a deeper meaning. Love.

"This creature had various tokens in her hearing. One was a kind of sound as if it were a pair of bellows blowing in her ear. She – being dismayed at this – was warned in her soul to have no fear, for it was the sound of the Holy Ghost. And then our Lord turned it into the voice of a dove, and afterwards he turned it into the voice of a little bird which is called a redbreast, that often sang very merrily in her right ear." (From the 'Book of Margery Kempe', early 15C) ‘A crown of thorns to freeze your breath The berried holly brings; Through snowing sunlight chaste as death The silent barn-owl wings But now the ghostly holy dove That bellows in your ear Is tuned to robin-song by love And cheerfully made clear.’ The only gift left on the shelf That nothing else can rise above Includes all treasure, lasts forever, And grows when shared with others: love. Now starry angels on the tree Grow larger in the dusk To heaven-blue and Eden-green And gold and reindeer-musk. And what was heard by Margery, The Visionary of Lynn, Rings out on tills for checkout girls Who hear that robin sing. The only gift left on the shelf, That nothing else can rise above, Includes all treasures, lasts forever, And grows when shared with others: love. A sacred Ouse of honeyed sound Above her dreaming bed, She wakes as one in paradise And leaps as from the dead. A thrilling robin in her ear, A rose that’s heaven scent, A man divine to earthly eye, All music from Him lent. The only gift left on the shelf, That nothing else can rise above, Includes all treasures, lasts forever, And grows when shared with others: love. God coughs; the Cosmos catches cold; it's Marge upon our Holy Bread. A Covid Christmas on the cards to feed our emptiness. Love!

To have turned to the East is then to be Conscious of the chaos behind the plan, Mindful of the terror behind the calm, Eyeful of darkness in lit Western cities; Now I’m called at last to God’s own country Disbelieving in switch and tap and fan, A Western, hygienic, jetted Dis-Man Orientated by your love of me. Your holy germ is taking me places That have no painless position to lie. I escape to my mind but it won't stop Pitching me backwards through haggling faces; Six degrees of separation unwound-up; Fried, shivered skins: all the layers of ‘I’.

[Verse 1] It was Sunday morning in our town And I sat on they steps and I stared at the ground And I bowed my head while they shuffled past All the saints being called to the morning mass [Chorus] And off in the distance there rang a bell Way off in the distance there rang a bell And it rang for saints and the sinners as well Way off in the distance there rang a bell [Verse 2] I remember the lessons of Sunday school And I can't help but think, maybe I'm the fool But I see no sign of a greater plan Just the joy and sorrow of my fellow man [Chorus] And off in the distance there rang a bell Way off in the distance there rang a bell And it rang for saints and the sinners as well Way off in the distance there rang a bell [Bridge] And here we stand while life rushes past Between the first breath and the last And here we stand between East and West And here we stand between birth and death words and music © David Francey 1999. [Verse 3] I was watching the news the other night There was a war on the Left, there was a war on the Right And it's no surprise that it's us or them It's a long way from heaven to Bethlehem [Chorus] And off in the distance there rang a bell Way off in the distance there rang a bell And it rang for saints and the sinners as well Way off in the distance there rang a bell ©David Francey 1999