i know the time i've left on earth
is getting less and less
i feel i've done nought of worth
and from your light digress

like the sea, where land greets firth,
disappears 'neath watercress,
i feel i'm edging into berth
sinking slow to recess

achieved so little since my birth
lost the urge to progress,
my goodness suffers from the dearth
of self-belief and aggress

so much good have you bequeathed me
and scarce have i done justice,
so father, i beseech thee,
afore my soul to you entrusted

open my eyes that i may see
the truth of my position
as Na'amon in Galilee
assist me in my ablution