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
stopped keeping score
I guess
somewhere along the way
He must have
let us all out to play
And turned
his back
And all
God’s children
Crept out
the back door
And its hard
to love
Theres so
much to hate
Hanging onto
hope
When there
is no hope to speak of
And the
wounded skies above
Say its much
too late
Oh maybe we
should all be praying for time
This is the
year of the empty hand
Oh you hold
onto what you can
And charity
is a coat you wear twice a year
These are
the days of the guilty man
The
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 I’ll
take my chances cause God stopped keeping score
And you’ll
cling to the things they sold you
Did you
cover your eyes when they told you
That he cant
come back
‘Cause he
has no children
to come back
for
And its hard
to love when theres so much to hate
And hanging
onto hope
When there
is no hope to speak of
And the
wounded skies above
Say its
much, much too late
Mm, well
maybe we should all be praying for time
[originally performed by George Michael]
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