Praying For Time

  • 專輯:Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1
  • 發行:1990-08-30
  • 演唱:George Michael
字型

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
Because 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 Gods children
Crept out the back door
And its hard to love, there's so much tohate
Hanging on to hope
When there is no hope to speak of
And the wounded skies above say it's much, 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 what's mine is mine and not yours
I may have too much but I'll take my chances
Because God's stopped keeping score
And you cling to the things they sold you
Did you cover your eyes when they told you
That he can't come back
Because he has no children to come back for
Its 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
So maybe we should all be praying for time


      • 專輯:Listen Without Prejudice Vol. 1
      • 發行:1990-08-30
      • 演唱:George Michael
      字型

      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
      Because 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 Gods children
      Crept out the back door
      And its hard to love, there's so much tohate
      Hanging on to hope
      When there is no hope to speak of
      And the wounded skies above say it's much, 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 what's mine is mine and not yours
      I may have too much but I'll take my chances
      Because God's stopped keeping score
      And you cling to the things they sold you
      Did you cover your eyes when they told you
      That he can't come back
      Because he has no children to come back for
      Its 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
      So maybe we should all be praying for time

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