Lyrics

Wood is burned alive
Cleaning all about the sprawl
Take up quick what is left
Thoughts are on the mend
But are they well enough to break the fall?
How 'bout a hand for the hand that feeds the best

Waiting on the last
Minute in the Sun
The time to chase and pass
Went with the powder in the gun
Was hopin that you'd understand
Learning how to use my hands
Just wasn't born a music man

Stone left to stones
Throw the reason in the coals
Coals or wood is either burned to death
Man is made to move
Again, the makers move the men
Yet both are set to stirrin up quite a mess

Waiting on the last
Minute in the Sun
The time to chase and pass went with the powder in the gun
Was hoping that you'd understand
Learning how to use my hands
Just wasn't born a music man

What has gotten into the boy of yours?
Old folks shout they know the best
Talking in front of me like I've never heard the score
Young folks yell me what comes next

Waiting on the last
Minute in the Sun
The time to chase and pass went with
The powder in the gun
Was hoping that you'd understand
Learning how to move my hands
Just wasn't born a music man