[Verse 1] 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 [Verse 2] The rich declare themselves poor And most of us are not sure If we have too much but well take our chances Cause God stopped keeping score [Verse 3] I guess somewhere along the way He must have let us all out to play And turned his back And all Gods 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 [Interlude] This is the year of the empty hand Oh you hold on to what you can And charity is a coat you wear twice a year [Verse 4] 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 Ill take my chances cause God stopped keeping score And youll 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 [Verse 5] 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
much, hope, wounded, score, onto