In The Green Chapel

Ten tall thin crosses on the west wall
As a building of worship, it's unmistakable
So too the nature of its god
Its architecture is a marriage of function and form

Elder and bracken thrive on outer walls
Gulls build nests in control panels
Our congregation numbers the gulls
The black-backs and ghosts who make today possible

And who raised their voices in song
The lighthouse keeper, the swaying valerian
Enough pieties, who will take the service?
"I will", says the physicist

"I speak only in equations
As they have no correlations
In the sphere of politics
Yet they alter the world they inhabit"

Physicists have long flattered themselves
Thus, I see you continue the tradition
We are ready to bring in the bomb
To complete its trajectory
WE.177A
For this is the missile's name

Song of the bomb, the drifting song
The firing song, the song of the bomb
Song of the wren, the devil-bird's song
The firing song, the song of the bomb (song of the bomb)

Song of the spores, the drifting song
The firing song, the song of the bomb (song of the bomb)
Song of the hag, the sea coal song
The firing song, the song of the bomb (song of the bomb)

Song of the bomb, the arming song
The firing song, the song of the bomb