In The Time Of My Confession, In The Hour Of My Deepest Need

When The Pool Of Tears Beneath My Feet Floods Every Newborn Seed

There's A Dying Voice Within Me Reaching Out Somewhere

Toiling In The Danger And The Morals Of Despair



Don't Have The Inclination To Look Back On Any Mistake

Like Cain, I 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 Trembles, In Every Grain Of Sand



Oh, The Flowers Of Indulgence And The Weeds Of Yesteryear

Like Criminals, They Have Choked The Breath Of Conscience And Good Cheer

The Sun Beams 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 Tempation's Angry Flame

And Every Time I Pass That Way I'll 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 Dream, In 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 Turn, There's Someone There, Other Times It's Only Me

I Am Hanging In The Balance Of The Reality Of Man

Like Every Sparrow Falling, Like Every Grain Of Sand