In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest needWhen the pool of tears beneath my feet floods every newborn seedThere's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhereToiling in the danger and in the morals of despairDon't have the inclination to look back on any mistakeLike can I now?Behold!This chain of events that I must breakIn the fury of the momentI can see the Master's handIn every leaf that tremblesIn every grain of sandOh, the flowerOh, the flowerOh, the flowerOf indulgenceAnd the weeds of yesteryearLike criminalsThey have choked the breathOf conscienceAnd good cheerThe sun beat down upon the stepsOf time to light the wayTo ease the painThe vitalness and the memoryOf the painOf decayI gaze into the doorwayOf temptations and with flameAnd every time I pass that wayI always hear my nameThen onward in my journeyI've come to understandThat if we hit the roadIt is numberedLike every grain of sandI have gone from ranks to richesIn the sorrow of the nightIn the violence of a summer's dreamIn the chill of a winter nightIn the bitter depths of lonelinessFading into spaceIn the broken mirror of little sunsOn each forgotten faceI hear the ancient footstepsLike the motion of the seaSometimes I turn this onto meSomeone thereOther times it's only meI'm hanging in the balance ofThe reality of manLike every spiral fallingLike every grain of sandEvery grain of sandEvery grain of sand