Catholic
Oh the years without a creed With stone in hand to hurt and bleed I thought no Saviour did I need Twas the same thought aimed at Stephen Each day began with crowds and fears Conditioned hatred, screams and tears With stones in hand I marched up near Twas the same thought aimed at Stephen And with fear, in thought and mind, Other people did I bind With rage and anger to mankind Twas the same thought aimed at Stephen I threw my stones with strength I found And watched them tumbling to the ground No power can hurt what God has crowned Twas the same thought aimed at Stephen And as I learnt to leave my woes And trust in God oh sweet repose Through the Saviour's blood we know The example of St Stephen