She stands four square whaur three roads meet,
she's no a' that handsome, she's showing her years,
But for ages she's held baith oor joys and oor tears,
That's oor kirk.
She's no ornamental, she has nae chimes,
But she's weathered a blitz, and seen mony hard times,
We're prood o' her history and boast o' her deeds,
For in spiritual maitters she's aye taen the lead,
That's oor kirk.
We may grumble at times as Church fold do,
"far too warm in the Kirk", "Cauld enough in oor pew",
"There's a draught frae yon winda' that just should not be",
"Aye an the licht was sae poor, I scarce could see",
But thats the way o maist Kirks.
The young yins are flighty and winna tak heid,
The old yins gey stubborn, they aye want tae lead,
There's a wee bit back bitin' an a wee bit o' strife,
But there's a Peace Maker tae make a' things right,
That's the best o' oor Kirk.
When we've just lost that bus that we're tryin tae make,
And that means Sunday Dinner will be a bit late,
we think tae oursels, ach this is nae use,
We'll hae tae gang somewhere nearer the Hoose,
but we're still at oor Kirk.
For roots weel planted are gey hard tae lift,
And memories and friendships no easy tae shift,
So we're back in oor place the next Sabbath day,
No, it's no very easy tae break right away,
Frae oor Kirk.
An when it come tae oor time for gangin' up bye,
An' we're feelin' gey lonely and heart like for bye,
I've a comfortin' feelin' the angel will say,
"Come right awa in, we've a big crowd the day",
An theyre a' frae your Kirk.
So lang may she stand, mid the traffic an din,
Wi a' wide open door, tae welcome us in,
For whether we come from Dalmuir or Parkhall,
Faifley or Whitecrook, there's a p[lace for us all,
In Oor Kirk.
--L.E. Hithell (written for the Centennial of Morison Memorial Church in 1993)