TIME’S HAND IN YOUR POCKET
MAX STALLING

CAPO III

(Am)IT’S THE SAG IN THE(C)TIMBERS OF AN(G)ABANDONED LINE(Em)SHACK
THE (Am)CONSPICUOUS(C)HUMP OF A(G)GRAY WOMAN’S(Em)BACK
IT’S THE(Am)WEEDS IN THE(C)RAILS OF THE(G)BURLINGTON(Em)TRACK
IT’S THE(Am)KNOWING THAT(C)YESTERDAY CAN NEVER COME(D)BACK

(Am)LIKE THE WINDMILL(C)THAT’S HARNESSED THE(G)BREEZE FOR(Em)YEARS
TILL THE(Am)GUSTS AND THE(C)RUST HAVE(G)RUINED IT’S(Em)GEARS
IT’S A(Am)FADED OUT(C)MAP FROM WHEN THE(G)STEEL RAILS STILL(Em)SHOWN
IT’S A(Am)WELL WORN OLD(C)RIDING HORSE THAT SOME KIDS(D)OUTGROWN

IT’S TIME’S (G) HAND IN YOUR (Bm) POCKET TAKING (Em) ALL THAT YOU OWN
(G) IT’S THE FRIO TOWN (Bm) COURTHOUSE LEFT TO (Em) STAND ALL ALONE
(G) IT’S THE AGE OF THE (Bm) COWBOY WHEN THERE’S (Em) NO OLD WEST LEFT
(Am) WHERE WE GO FROM (C) HERE BOYS IS ANYONE’S (D) GUESS, I GUESS

IT’S A W***ES REALIZATION THAT HER BEAUTY WILL SPOIL
IT’S A WILDCATTER’S NIGHTMARE THAT THERE IS NO MORE OIL
IT’S THE HILL’S AND THE PRAIRIES DISSECTED WITH ROADS
IT’S THE FUTURE, THE DAMNED FUTURE, AND IT’S AN ILL WIND THAT BODES

IT’S TIME‘S HAND IN YOUR POCKET TAKING ALL THE YOU OWN
IT’S THE GAMBLERS TIRED EYES WHEN HIS LAST CARD IS THROWN
IT’S THE AGE OF THE COWBOY WHEN THERE’S NO OLD WEST LEFT
WHERE WE GO FROM HERE BOYS IS ANYONE’S GUESS, I GUESS

THE OLD MOUNTAIN MAN HAS SEEN HIS LAST FIRST SNOW
THE DRIED UP OLD POET HE KNOWS HIS LAST RHYME HAS FLOWED
I DON’T BELIEVE THINGS LIVE JUST TO DIE
BUT I JUST DON’T THINK I’LL EVER UNDERSTAND WHY

IT’S TIME’S HAND IN YOUR POCKET TAKING ALL THAT YOU OWN
LIKE THE WAVE ROBS THE SHORELINE AND THE WIND CARVES THE STONE
IT’S THE AGE OF THE COWBOY WHEN THERE’S NO OLD WEST LEFT
(Am) WHERE WE GO FROM (C) HERE BOYS
(Am) WHERE THE HELL ARE WE (C) NOW BOYS
(Am) WHAT’LL WE DO (C) NOW BOYS IS ANYONE’S (D) GUESS, I GUESS
(N/C) I’D SURE HATE TO (Am) GUESS