CLOSING TIME
Time will tell if its prophecy
When Babel fell, did the babble cease?
The first worlds bank is the third worlds crime
And it all adds up at closing time
History is a rich mans tale
A row of lamps on the paper trail
But the lights have dimmed and the tradings died
And theyve closed the books on closing time
Now border fence got raised again
And we all lament that the lines so thin
But the neighborhood is tucked in tight
And lock your gates, its closing time
Tell me this, when youre on the street
Do you look for hints in the eyes you meet?
Or do you look away and say Just fine
And hurry home at closing time
Now the Golden Years with their edges brown
Just one loose gearll grind the whole chain down
And grown men cry just to grease their minds
When theyve lost their sense of closing time
Copyright 2003. Words and music by Danny Schmidt