well if it ain`t your time to go then you`d better stay put for now cuz everybody`s gotta do their time until it`s time and if it ain`t broken, then break it and say you knew me way back when we`re fools, we`re fools and all rest were swine waiting to be defiled well I could hang up my shingle out by the side of the road and try to bang a flame out of the cinders you left behind like a driftwood in the night that was washed up by the light of the moon that bleached my bones that sent me to the pile mustard in your smile land a hand on the radio dial and the breezes of the season have blown us back to hell it`s a stolen telephone that I dialed blind and alone just to hear the voice of a bargain center soul now the deserts are inflamed and the bandages are the same and the factories, casualties are looking for mangled joes(?) and if it ain`t your time to go then you`d better stay put for now cuz anybody gotta put their hand upon the hand of the clock like the minds of misers grinding down their gears to a halt
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