People Tell Me It's A

How Many A Year Has Passed And Gone And Many Gamble Has Been Lost And Won, And Many A Road Taken By A Friend And Each One I've Never Seen Again.

I Am Hanging In The Balance Of A Perfect Finished Plan, Like Every Sparrow Falling, Like Every Grain Of Sand.

Wasn't Making Any Great Connection Wasn't Falling For Any Intricate Scheme Nothing That Would Pass Inspection Just Thinking Of A Series Of Dreams

Let Me Ask You One Question Is Your Money That Good Will It Buy You Forgiveness Do You Think That It Could I Think You Will Find When Your Death Takes Its Toll All The Money You Made Will Never Buy Back Your Soul

Well The Deputy Walks On Hard Nails And The Preacher Rides A Mount, But Nothing Really Matters Much It's Doom Alone That Counts.