St Enodoc’s Suite:

Enodocs Theme Instrumental

The Voyage

He Sailed Away From Cymru, in a Boat across the sea.
Taking the word of God, to a new community.
He wasn’t long on the Journey, when he saw Land ahoy!
Arriving at a place called Deymer Bay

Sheltering in a cave, He made the place a home
Eating Fish and sea food, feeling very much alone
He made his way up the cliffs, to reach, pastures green
Searching for signs of life helping everyone he sees

Everyday he’d make his way, the narrative was clear
The word of God that he for told, was written for all to hear
The Villagers and crofters, hadn’t time to hear his words
They mocked and they beat him, but was never unperturbed

In the stories that he had told, sparked interested, far and wide
People would listen, to his preaching’s of the time
Soon the gatherings, attracted many more.
Christ and the bible had arrived, at their front door

Build A Church

People came from miles around, Helping to dig and prepare the ground.
Hoping to Build, Looking to Build a Church
A Wooden Frame was taking shape, Quicklime and Stone were set in place
Starting to Build, Hoping to Build the Church
As the days went by, the people knew, something was in the air.

Craftsmen came from across the Land, to lend a hand with stone, wood and sand
Constructing a church, longing to form a Church
A roof of straw lay across the beams, and windows made of glass

M8 Through wind and rain, they carried on, doing it because
Oh MY Lord My God
Soon they’ll have a place to meet, salvation their reward.

Peoples come from miles around, hearing the words of Enodoc’s sound
Preaching the word, spreading the word of God
Oh My Lord My God
Stories told, of courage and strength, inspired them all to know, searching for eternity.

The Sands of Time

The sky was black, Black as night, the storm began to rage
A Thunderous sound. Across the land, the devils come to play

The Sands of Time are catching me, with each new wave it covers me
Standing proud with my leaning spire. The Devil unleashed his Brimstone ‘n’ fire.

The sand was pushed, up against my walls, right up to the roof
Consecration of this place, is now only through the roof.

The Sands of Time have talked to me, and telling me of my destiny.
The leaning spire is all you see. Won’t someone please come and rescue me.

Centuries on, I’m still standing proud, and once again a church
Where a poet come to lay to rest. Giving back to the earth.

The Sands of Time have been good to me, I’m standing here for all to see.
10,000 years to tell my tale, through winds and rain and storms and sea.

and storms and sea.
storms and sea.
and storms and sea.


Betjeman’s Lament (Trebetherick poem by Poet Laureate John Betjeman Narrated by Chris Bennett

We used to picnic where the thrift
Grew deep and tufted to the edge;
We saw the yellow foam flakes drift
In trembling sponges on the ledge
Below us, till the wind would lift
Them up the cliff and o’er the hedge.
Sand in the sandwiches, wasps in the tea,
Sun on our bathing dresses heavy with the wet,
Squelch of the bladder-wrack waiting for the sea,
Fleas around the tamarisk, an early cigarette.

From where the coastguard houses stood
One used to see below the hill,
The lichened branches of a wood
In summer silver cool and still;
And there the Shade of Evil could
Stretch out at us from Shilla Mill.
Thick with sloe and blackberry, uneven in the light,
Lonely round the hedge, the heavy meadow was remote,
The oldest part of Cornwall was the wood as black as night,
And the pheasant and the rabbit lay torn open at the throat.

But when a storm was at its height,
And feathery slate was black in rain,
And tamarisks were hung with light
And golden sand was brown again,
Spring tide and blizzard would unite
And sea come flooding up the lane.
Waves full of treasure then were roaring up the beach,
Ropes round our mackintoshes, waders warm and dry,
We waited for the wreckage to come swirling into reach,
Ralph, Vasey, Alistair, Biddy, John and I.

Then roller into roller curled
And thundered down the rocky bay,
And we were in a water world
Of rain and blizzard, sea and spray,
And one against the other hurled
We struggled round to Greenaway.
Blessйd be St Enodoc, blessйd be the wave,
Blessйd be the springy turf, we pray, pray to thee,
Ask for our children all happy days you gave
To Ralph, Vasey, Alistair, Biddy, John and me.

St Enodoc's Legacy Instrumental