A gold rush town

And I, the bishop

Preaching to the schoolmarms and the drunks

The swaggering gamblers, the men on the trapline

I've quoted scripture to a grizzly more than once

I make the rounds

On Thursdays it's the ladies

For small talk and Darjeeling tea

Served up on silver, an array of fine cheeses

Society's bishop--that's me!

Chorus:

Ooh Bishop with your voice like a cello

Tell us once again what it's like to be a man

Hungry, lost and alone

Yearning for the comforts of home

Yearning for the pleasures--

Of home

Crumpets in hand, I begin to regale

How I once lost my way in a winter's gale

Pretty faces like saucers surround me, intent on my

Sorrowful tale

Socked in for days

Big storm on the trapline

And supplies looking rather spare

A couple of crusts, a twist of tobacco

Not a squirrel to be had; not a hare

My sealskin boots

And the rawhide laces

Were starting to look rather good to me

I scraped them, I boiled them, I stewed them for hours...

"Dear Bishop," said the ladies, "More tea?"

Chorus:

Ooh Bishop with your voice like a cello

(Perhaps just... half a cup)

Tell us once again what it's like to be a man

Hungry, lost and alone

Yearning for the comforts of home

Yearning for the pleasures--

Even in the best of circles

Moist leather has its appeal

Vicar'ous thrills for Victorian damsels

Boot soup makes a wonderful meal

Chorus:

Ooh Bishop with your voice like a cello

Tell us once again what it's like to be a man

Hungry, lost and alone

Yearning for the comforts of home

Yearning for the pleasures--

Ooh Bishop with your voice like a cello

Tell us once again what it's like to be a man

(Exhilarating!)

Hungry, lost and alone

Yearning for the comforts of home

Yearning for the pleasures--

Of home

(It's good to be back)