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