emhart
In the Dtime of my Gmaj7confession,
in the Dhour of my deepest Gmaj7need
When the Dpool of tears Gmaj7beneath
my feet Aflood every Asus4newborn Aseed
There's a Ddyin' voice Gmaj7within
me Dreaching out Gmaj7somewhere,
DToiling in the Gmaj7danger
and in the Amorals Asus4of despAair.
Don't have the incliA7nation to look Dback on any Amistake,
Like Cain, I now A7behold this chain of eDvents that I must Abreak.G
In the Dfury of the Gmaj7moment I can Dsee the Master's Gmaj7hand
In Devery leaf that Gmaj7trembles, in Aevery A9sus4grain of Dsand.
Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,
Like criminals, they 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 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.
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