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 well take our
chances
Because God stopped keeping score
I guess somewhere along the
way
He must have let us all out to play
Turned his back and all gods
children
Crept out the back door

[Chorus]
And its hard to
love,
Theres so much to hate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope
to speak of
And the wounded skies above
Say its 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 whats mine is mine and
not yours
I may have too much
But Ill take my chances
Because God
stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things
They sold you
Did you
cover your eyes when
They told you
That he cant come back
Because he
has no children
To come back for…

Praying for Time: http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=FY6ziVcfRvM