Dylan, from Every Grain of Sand
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 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.