In the time of my confessionin the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed
There’s a dyin’ voice within me reaching out somewhere
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.
Don’t have the inclination to look back on any mistake
Like cainI now behold this chain of events that I must break.
In the fury of the moment I can see the master’s hand
In every leaf that tremblesin every grain of sand.
Ohthe flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear
Like criminalsthey have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer.
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.
I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name.
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.
I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer’s dreamin the chill of a wintry light
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.
I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turnthere’s someone thereother times it’s only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow fallinglike every grain of sand.