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 Theres a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair. Dont 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 masters 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 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 temptations 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 summers 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, theres someone there, other time its only me I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand. - George Harrison
Posted on: Wed, 05 Nov 2014 15:41:53 +0000
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