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Beck
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Ain't Your Time To Go
Well, if it ain't your time to go then you'd better stay put for now
Everybody's got to do their time until it's time
And if it ain't broken then break it and say you knew me way back when
When fools were fools and all the rest were swine waiting to be defiled
I could hang up my shingles out by the side of the road
Try to bang the blame 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 then sent me to the pile
Mustard in your smile, land that hand on the radio dial
Then 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 in flame and the bandages are the same
And the factory's casualties are looking for mangled jewels
Well if it ain't your time to go, then you better stay put for now
'Cause everybody's got to 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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