Emmylou Harris

^Db In the time of my ^Bbm confession, in the ^Db hour of my deepest ^Bbm need
When the ^Db pool of tears ^Bbm beneath my feet flood ^Ab every ^Absus newborn ^Ab seed
There's a ^Db dyin' voice ^Bbm within me ^Db reaching out some ^Bbm where,
^Db Toiling in the ^Bbm danger and in ^Ab the mora ^Asusb ls of d ^Ab espair.
Don't have the in ^Ab7 clination to look b ^Db ack on any mist ^Ab ake,
Like Cain, I now ^Ab7 behold this chain of e ^Db vents that I must br ^Ab eak.
In the ^Db fury of the m ^Bbm oment I can ^Db see the Master's h ^Bbm and
In ev ^Db ery leaf that t ^Bbm rembles and, ^Ab in ever ^Absus y grain of ^Db sand.
^Db Oh, the flowers of ^Bbm indulgence and the ^Db weeds of yester ^Bbm year,
^Db Like criminals, they have ^Bbm choked the breath of c ^Ab onscience ^Absus and good
^Ab cheer.
^Db The sun beat down ^Bbm upon the steps of ^Db time to light the ^Bbm way
To ^Db ease the pain of ^Bbm idleness and the ^Ab memory ^Absus of dec ^Ab ay.
^Ab I gaze into the ^Ab7 doorway of ^Db temptation's angry ^Ab flame
^Ab And every time I ^Ab7 pass that way I ^Db always hear my ^Ab name.
Then ^Db onward in my ^Bbm journey I ^Db come to unde ^Bbm rstand
^Db That every hair is ^Bbm numbered like ^Ab every grain of ^Db sand.
^Db I have gone from rags to ^Bbm riches in the ^Db sorrow of the ^Bbm night
^Db In the violence of a ^Bbm summer's dream, in the c ^Ab hill of ^Absus a wintry ^Ab light,
In the ^Db bitter dance of ^Bbm loneliness ^Db fading into ^Bbm space,
In the ^Db broken mirror of ^Bbm innocence on ^Ab each ^Absus forgotten ^Ab face.
^Ab I hear the ancient ^Ab7 footsteps like the ^Db motion of the ^Ab sea
^{Ab Ab7 Db Ab}
Sometimes I turn, there's someone there, other times it's only me.
^Db I am hanging in the ^Bbm balance of a ^Db perfect finished ^Bbm plan
Like e ^Db very sparrow ^Bbm falling, like ^Ab every grain of s ^Db and