(George Michael)
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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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Because god's stopped keeping score
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I guess somewhere along the way
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He must have let us alt 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
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And the wounded skies above say it's much too late
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Well maybe we should all be praying for time
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These are the days of the empty hand
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Oh you hold on to what you can
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And charity is a coat you wear twice a year
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This is the year of the guilty man
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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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Because god's stopped keeping score
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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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Beacuse he has no children to come back for
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It's hard to love there's so much to hate
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Hanging on to hope when there is no hope to speak of
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And the wounded skies above say it's much too late
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So maybe we should all be praying for time
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Praying For Time
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| George Michael |
