Milton's Schemes
Fearful for the assurance of paradise, they left the Anglican Church at the ordination of women, but maybe, just maybe, they're going to Hell anyway.

Round the ragged rocks
Shifting in between the trees
Idle poetasters test their mettle
On the lilacs and the greens
The sparrow-hawks and starlings on the gallows
Stirring lightly in the breeze
And the mistle-thrush
Disturb the shepherd boy's dreams

Along the gravel walks
Across the garden and beyond
Dancing to the music of the flutes
Down the ornamental lawn
From the abattoir
The little shepherdesses swarm
And snap their fingers to the bleat
Of the shepherd boy's song

In the Valley of Death the Garden of Eden
The shadow of Cain
When I can walk with your hand on my shoulder
It's one and the same
And I am not ashamed to say

We believe he's going to hell
We believe they're stoking up the fires for him ready there
That his bed is made of nails
We believe he won't be spared
We believe it's better late than never that he'd better be prepared
Or they'll catch him unawares

We believe it's just as well
We believe that we've received an answer
To our letters and our prayers

Rich forbidden fruit
Down the kitchen garden grows
Naked men and women eating apples
Wander up and down the groves
The missionaries have gone away
With all the fishes and the loaves
And the shepherd boy
Was driven from the fold

When out of the East flew the Angel of Darkness
Skimming the waves
Gripped by the wind of his slipstream passing
I was afraid
That I would be torn I would be tempted
But I was betrayed
Now paradise regained won't clear my name

Intro./Verse F#m E
Middle 8 C#m B A B C#m
Chorus A D E A F#m E