I count the hours: you count the days Together, we count the minutes in this Pa**ion Play Walk dusty miles. And I ride that train On a first cla** ticket, just to be with you again Picking up tired feet. Back from a far horizon Cleaned up and brushed down. Dressed to look the part Fresh from God's garden, I bring a gift of roses: To stand in sweet spring water and press them to your heart Like the Kipling cat, I walk alone - Never inviting trouble, never casting the stone But this badge of honour is of tarnished tin Light your guiding beacon to bring this fisher in