Praying For Time
These are the days of the open handThey will not be the lastLook around nowThese are the days of the beggarsand the choosers
This is the year of the hungry manWhose place is in the pastHand in hand with ignoranceAnd legitimate excuses
The rich declare themselves poorAnd most of us are not sureIf we have too muchBut we'll take our chances'Cause God's stoppedkeeping scoreI guess somewherealong the wayHe must have let usall out to playTurned his back and all God's childrenCrept out the back door
And it's hard to love,there's so much to hateHanging on to hopeWhen there is no hope to speak ofAnd the wounded skies abovesay it's much, much too lateWell maybe we should allbe praying for time
These are the days of the empty handOh you hold on to what you canAnd charity is a coat you wear twice a year
This is the year of the guilty manYour television takes a standAnd you find that what was over there is over here
So you scream from behind your doorSay what's mine is mine and not yoursI may have too much but I'll take my chances'Cause God's stopped keeping scoreAnd you cling to the things they sold youDid you cover your eyes when they told youThat he can't come back'Cause he has no children to come back for
It's hard to love there's so much to hateHanging on to hope whenthere is no hope to speak ofAnd the wounded skies abovesay it's much too lateSo maybe we should all be praying for time