Praying For Time

These are the days of the open hand

They will not be the last, look around now

These are the days of the beggars and the choosers



This is the year of the hungry man

Whose place is in the past

Hand in hand with ignorance and legitimate excuses



The rich declare themselves poor

And most of us are not sure

If we have too much, but we'll take our chances

Cause god's stopped keeping score



I guess somewhere along the way

He must have let us ALL* out to play

Turned his back, and all god's children

Crept out the back door



And it's hard to love, there's so much to hate

Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of

And the wounded skies above say it's much too late

Well, maybe we should all be praying for time



These are the days of the empty hand

Oh, you hold on to what you can

And charity is a coat you wear twice a year



This is the year of the guilty man

Your television takes a stand

And you find that what was over there is over here



So you scream from behind your door

Say what's mine is mine and not yours

I may have too much, but I'll take my chances

Cause god's stopped keeping score



And you cling to the things they sold you

Did you cover your eyes when they told you

That he can't come back

Cause he has no children to come back for



It's hard to love, there's so much to hate

Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of

And the wounded skies above say it's much too late

So maybe we should all be praying for time