Comes a Time

It’s a holy place if you see things that way

Then they rattle the bones and the analysts play

From his backward collar on a worn out book

Another working class poet with an abstract look

So take me up to the edge of the world

And push me over again

Lead me up to the edge of the world

There comes a time

Now, shake your hair and rattle your cans

It’s a service funded by a self-made man

Talks to victims and industrial spies

He feeds you tobacco for the four-minute mile

So take me up to the edge of the world

And push me over again

Lead me up to the edge of the world

There comes a time

With some strange god and a good right hand

We can chase the ghost from the promised land

If the promised land turns out as it should

We can flood the place with consumer goods

When the African general meets the bingo queen

And the collective farmer joins the teenage dream

When the miracle worker saves the chat show host

And the caveman paints another holy ghost

So take me up to the edge of the world

And push me over again

Lead me up to the edge of the world

There comes a time

So take me up to the edge of the world

And push me over again

Lead me up to the edge of the world

There comes a time

We can storm the walls in our leisure wear

While we trap the beast in his stormy lair

Then we’ll smooth his image and we’ll save his soul

While we fill our schools with the gold we stole

With some strange god and a good right hand

We can chase the ghost from the promised land

If the promised land turns out as it should

We can flood the place with consumer goods