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BACK PEW (by Silvio Vinci) Rain on the steps and a coat worn thin, I waited for the singing, then I slipped in. Took the last seat by a crack in the wall, Trying to look like I’d never left at all.
Back pew, save a little room, Let that old song carry me through. I’ve been gone, but I still know the tune— Let me sing it from the back pew.
The woman beside me moved over an inch, Passed me the book with a tired little grin. I knew every word, but my voice wouldn’t rise, Till a hand touched my sleeve and I closed my eyes.
Back pew, save a little room, Let that old song carry me through. I’ve been gone, but I still know the tune— Let me sing it from the back pew.
Let the high notes lift the ceiling, Let the low ones shake the floor. If there’s room for one more singer, I can give a little more.
Back pew, make a little room, Hear my voice come trembling through. I’ve been gone, but I still know the tune— Now I’m singing from the back pew.
One more voice… One more voice… From the back pew.
