The Innocence Mission - Every hour here

We ride our bikesaround 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 hereand 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 Youin churchesand other islands.And on my beadswhere I can see You, I can feel You.I take the ticket-halfand put it on the table, saying,This is Godand He's here through my comingsand my goings.But I walk past the ticket-half,I walk past the ticket-half.I walk past the ticket-halfjust 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