Mystery Song #2

well if it ain’t your time to gothen you’d better stay put for nowcuz everybody’s gotta do tehir time until it’s timeand if it ain’t broken, then break itand say you knew me way back whenwhen fools were fools, and all rest were swine waiting to be defiledwell i could hang up my singleout by the side of the roadand try to bang a flame out of the cinders you left behindlike a driftwood in the nightthat was washed up by the lightof the moon that bleached my bonesthat sent me to the pilemustard in your smilelend a hand on the radio dialand the breezes of the seasonshave blown us back to hellit’s a stolen telephonethat i dialed blind and alonejust to hear the voice of a bargain center soulnow the deserts are in flamesand the bandages are the sameand the factories, casualties are looking for mangled jewelsand if it ain’t your time to gothen you’d better stay put for nowcuz anybody gotta put their handupon the hand of the clocklike the minds of misers grinding down their gears to a halt