Every head bowed
Every eye closed
See that hand I
Raise that hand
From the shallows
Into the Sun unseen
God speaks and he lives
In the measure
In the blackened field
He gives healed
On my arm is sealed
The gleaming hem
The gleaming hem
The gleaming hem of heaven's garment
Sharp as Sheol
Glowing bell toll
Strong as death to hold
The advancing flame
The very fire my soul
The tough shove
The itching ear
Of the habit
Of the collar
Of the cloth
The fearing spear
Set forth
Funerary arts attire
Poured out
Poured out
Flaming tongues of fire
Winking on the past I am
Your hand on the ark
Sight through the horns of the ram
Arching moment
Every arching moment
O Temple timber
