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These are the days of the open hand |
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They will not be the last |
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Look around now |
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These are the days of the beggars and the choosers |
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This is the year of the hungry man |
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Whose place is in the past |
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Hand in hand with ignorance |
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And legitimate excuses |
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The rich declare themselves poor |
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And most of us are not sure |
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If we have too much |
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But we'll take our chances |
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'Cause God's stopped keeping score |
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I guess somewhere along the way |
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He must have let us all out to play |
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Turned his back and all God's children |
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Crept out the back door |
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And it's hard to love' there's so much to hate |
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Hanging on to hope |
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When there is no hope to speak of |
[01:51.05] |
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And the wounded skies above say |
[01:56.80] |
it's much too late |
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Well maybe we should all be praying for time |
[02:07.93] |
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These are the days of the empty hand |
[02:42.58] |
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[02:43.20] |
Oh you hold on to what you can |
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And charity is a coat you wear twice a year |
[02:53.62] |
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This is the year of the guilty man |
[02:58.49] |
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Your television takes a stand |
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And you find that what was over there is over here |
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So you scream from behind your door |
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Say what's mine is mine and not yours |
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I may have too much but I'll take my chances |
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'Cause God's stopped keeping score |
[03:25.88] |
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And you cling to the things they sold you |
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Did you cover your eyes when they told you |
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That he can't come back |
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'Cause he has no children to come back for |
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It's hard to love there's so much to hate |
[03:49.53] |
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Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of |
[03:57.83] |
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And the wounded skies above say it's much too late |
[04:06.39] |
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So maybe we should all be praying for time |
[04:15.16] |
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