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