george michael
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, 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