In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need When the pool of tears beneath my feet floods every newborn seed There's a dying voice within me reaching out somewhere Toiling in the danger and the morals of despair Don't 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 master's 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 beams 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…