The Book of Numbers

Bring me a glass of water

To wash the dirt from my throat

I've been wandering my whole life out there

Help me out of my coat

This water's as clear as crystal

We should thank the Lord for that

Sit you down and hear my story

Find somewhere for my hat

A barkeep takes a stranger's hat

And finds a vacant hook

Turns back towards the traveller

His right hand on an old black book

The holy Book of Numbers

I take it's something that you've read?

The long search in the wilderness

For a place to lay my head

So many parables in the scriptures

But this one I'm doomed to tell

For I stormed the gates of Heaven

To find myself in Hell

This is my lonely mission

To wake the world up to its fate

To dismantle my own invention

For the hour is getting late

This holy Book of Numbers

As we walk through the shadow of death

Tell me, are you listening, boy

Or am I just wasting my breath?

There are fools in the courts of power

While I've walked through this vale of bitter tears

At the mercy of recording angels

For three score and twenty-five years

The barkeep gets up from the table

To fill up another glass

He turns around to find an empty chair

All that's left is the name in his hat