Eucharist LYRICS
(Jacque Darragh)
June 25, 2011
You might not know that even though I've played the piano since I was 4, I never dreamed of writing songs. The first song I ever wrote was one when I was aged 12. There was a talent show for the junior high, and I thought I'd write a song. My two best friends told me it was horrible, and I didn't sing that for the talent show or ever write a song again. Until I was 37.
I was sitting with the original poem which was written in the 1960's by someone named R. Voigt.
I don't think it was every copyrighted, but here it is:
Eucharist
by R. Voght
He was old, tired, sweaty, pushing his homemade cart down the alley, stopping, now and then to poke around in somebody's garbage, I wanted to tell him about Eucharist, but the look in his eyes, the despair on his face, the hopelessness of somebody else's life in his cart told me to forget it. So I smiled, said "Hi!"... and gave him Eucharist.
She is cute, nice build, a little too much paint, wobbly on her feet as she slid from her barstool and one the make. "No, thanks not tonight" and I gave her Eucharist.
She lived alone, her husband dead, her family gone, and she talked at you, not to you, words, endless words spilled out. So I listened... and gave her Eucharist.
Downtown is nice, lights change from red to green, and back again. Flashing blues, pinks, and oranges. I gulped them in, Said, "Thank you God," and made them Eucharist.
I laughed at myself, and told myself, "You, with all your sin, and all your selfishness, I forgive you, I accept you, I love you." It's nice, and so necessary, to give yourself Eucharist.
Tired, weary, disgusted, lonely, Go to your friends, open your door, say "Look at me," and receive their Eucharist.
My God, when will we learn? You cannot talk Eucharist. You cannot philosophize about it, You Do It! You don't dogmatize Eucharist. Sometimes you laugh it, sometimes you cry it, often you sing it. Sometimes it's wild hurt, then crying peace, often humiliating, never deserved. You see Eucharist in another's eyes, give it in another's hand held tight, squeeze it with an embrace. You pause Eucharist in the middle of the day, speak it in another's ear, listen to a person who wants to talk. For Eucharist is as simple as being on time, as profound as sympathy. I give you my supper, I give you my sustenance, I give you my life, I give you me... I Give You Eucharist.
I had been taking a class with Rose Schick, this savvy wonderful woman who had updated Voigt's poem. I was sitting at the piano one evening, with both poems sitting side by side, and this song was born. And in a half hour, I became a songwriter.
EUCHARIST
He was old and tired and much too dirty,
picking up aluminum cans
along the highway.
I smiled. I said, “Hi,”
and gave him Eucharist.
She lived alone, her husband dead,
her family gone.
She spoke at me, not to me.
Endless words spewed out.
I sat . . . and listened . . . and hoped her Eucharist.
Jesus took bread in his hands, he looked at it, and said, “Change.”
He took the cup in his hands, he looked at the wine, and said, “Change.”
And they became Eucharist, his blood, his body.
She couldn’t say she was sorry.
She could only stand there, stubborn, stiff, and still angry.
I reached out my hand and forgave her, and we shared Eucharist.
He was dying of AIDS, terrified, and in so much pain,
all alone in the world, misunderstood, no one seemed to care.
I held his hand, and prayed with him, and he was Eucharist for me.
Jesus took bread in his hands, he looked at it, and said, “Change.”
He took the cup in his hands, he looked at the wine, and said, “Change.”
And they became Eucharist, his blood, his body.
Jesus takes us in his hands, he looks at us, and says, “Change.”
And we become Eucharist, his blood, his body.
I was tired, disgusted. I was all burned out.
I went to my friends, they opened their doors, blessed me with Eucharist.
It was a silly fight. Who started it? What was it all about?
We hugged, we reconciled, and we laughed Eucharist.
Sometimes we laugh Eucharist, sometimes we cry Eucharist.
Sometimes we shout Eucharist; we whisper Eucharist.
In a touch or a tear, in a word or a song.
We hope, we live, because we are Eucharist.
Jesus took bread in his hands, he looked at it, and said, “Change.”
He took the cup in his hands, he looked at the wine, and said, “Change.”
And they became Eucharist, his blood, his body.
Jesus takes us in his hands, he looks at us, and says, “Change.”
And we become Eucharist, his blood, his body.
And we become Eucharist, his blood, his body.
And we become Eucharist, until He comes again.
©1993, 2004 Ruah Music (713)-944-2225.
Text: R. Voigt, Rose Schick, Jacque Darragh. Music: Jacque Darragh. All rights reserved.