Artist: Bob Dylan
In the [D]time of my [Gmaj7]confession,
in the [D]hour of my deepest [Gmaj7]need
When the [D]pool of tears [Gmaj7]beneath
my feet [A]flood every [Asus4]newborn [A]seed
There's a [D]dyin' voice [Gmaj7]within
me [D]reaching out [Gmaj7]somewhere,
[D]Toiling in the [Gmaj7]danger
and in the [A]morals [Asus4]of desp[A]air.
Don't have the incli[A7]nation to look [D]back on any [A]mistake,
Like Cain, I now [A7]behold this chain of e[D]vents that I must [A]break.[G]
In the [D]fury of the [Gmaj7]moment I can [D]see the Master's [Gmaj7]hand
In [D]every leaf that [Gmaj7]trembles, in [A]every [A9sus4]grain of [D]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 temptation's 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 summer's 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, there's someone there, other times it's only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
in the [D]hour of my deepest [Gmaj7]need
When the [D]pool of tears [Gmaj7]beneath
my feet [A]flood every [Asus4]newborn [A]seed
There's a [D]dyin' voice [Gmaj7]within
me [D]reaching out [Gmaj7]somewhere,
[D]Toiling in the [Gmaj7]danger
and in the [A]morals [Asus4]of desp[A]air.
Don't have the incli[A7]nation to look [D]back on any [A]mistake,
Like Cain, I now [A7]behold this chain of e[D]vents that I must [A]break.[G]
In the [D]fury of the [Gmaj7]moment I can [D]see the Master's [Gmaj7]hand
In [D]every leaf that [Gmaj7]trembles, in [A]every [A9sus4]grain of [D]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 temptation's 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 summer's 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, there's someone there, other times it's only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.
Used chords
—