Time will tell if it's prophecy When Babel fell, did the babble cease? The first world's bank is the third world's crime And it all adds up at closing time History is a rich man's tale A row of lamps on the paper trail But the lights have dimmed and the trading's died And they've closed the books on closing time Now border fence got raised again And we all lament that the line's so thin But the neighborhood is tucked in tight And lock your gates, it's closing time Tell me this, when you're on the street Do you look for hints in the eyes you meet? Or do you look away and say "Just fine" And hurry home at closing time Now the Golden Years with their edges brown Just one loose gear'll grind the whole chain down And grown men cry just to grease their minds When they've lost their sense of closing time