So We Say What's Mine is Mine and Not Yours

These are the days of the open hand 
They might just 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'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 it's much too 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 
'Cause 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 
'Cause he has no children to come back for 

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 it's much too late 
So maybe we should all be praying for time



- "Praying for Time," lyrics by George Michael
Released of Epic Records, 1990.

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