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. I sang twenty years and a day, but nothing changed. The human race found some other guy and walked into the flame. 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. Then maybe we should all be praying for time. Do you think we have 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." I sang twenty years and a day. 'Cause nothing changed, the human race found some other guy and walked into the flames.
It's hard to love, Jesus, 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. Then maybe we should all be praying for time. Do you think we have time? Lord, give us time.
