i was born into this world on the seventh day of june no sunshine broke the sky as i arrived my father was a rector with a hard and heavy hand my mother was thirteen and not his wife she gave me to the sisters on the farthest edge of town no one would be the wise or see my face i became a man raised up by cemetery wolves we earned our keep by digging beggar s graves i guess that s just the way they showed me the loving hand of god loving hand of god when fifteen years had passed they put me out upon the stones to make my way with gypsies and with thieves a kindly hearted cropper took me on to till his land i d work until my fingers they did bleed his daughter was a deaf and mute with kind and loving eyes the color of the bluest summer sky a love grew strong between us and i asked to take her hand but the father said he d sooner see her die i guess that s just the way he showed me the loving hand of god loving hand of god and in the spring we stole away to find a life anew with pennies and our bags to make our way we found work with the magistrate tending to his land and happiness was born again each day and in the fall i married her and summer brought a child in which there was no sign of me at all and when i said that son of mine did have her father s eyes she wept and said that he had come to call i guess that s just the way he showed me the loving hand of god loving hand of god