In the time of my confession, in 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 cain, I now behold this chain of events I have to break And onward in my journey I come to understand Every hair is numbered like every grain of sand