Il testo della Every hour here

We ride our bikes around the circle in the cemetery weaving
I wave up to you on the cross
Am i to come upon you suddenly like this forever?
Happy, relieved that you are here and i can see you
I can feel you

You are like the ticket-half
I find inside the pocket of my old lead-raking coat
There all the time, all the while forgotten
I so often seem to leave you in churches and other islands
And on my beads where i can see you, i can feel you

I take the ticket-half and put it on the table saying
This is god and he's here through my comings and my goings
But i walk past the ticket-half, i walk past the ticket-half
I walk past the ticket-half just as i've walked past the cross on our wall

Our self-importance grows so dazzling we don't see you
But gentle jesus, aren't you always?
Aren't you every hour here?