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
‘Cause God’s stopped keeping score

I guess somewhere along the way
He must have let us all out to play
Turned his back and all God’s children
Crept out the back door

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 its much too late
Well maybe we should all be
Praying for time

These are the days of the empty …
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