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