the time is a-comin' and the time has a-went

This is written a la Bob Dylan's "Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie". It's about Poughkeepsie, NY.

got back alleyways to hide all the cars from roamin' passer-bys and the hollywood stars, sweepin' the streets and keepin' 'em shined for the steelworkers raising their fists in the air at the FDR contract they long ago signed

boom-time murals painted on walls 

of the crackhouses crumblin’ beside the strip malls, 

cuz the man is awaitin' and the man is appalled

at the prospect of his uprise and the fortune of his fall

its one among many like a poet who calls

out to the people it rings through the halls, 

it asks for forgiveness, absolvement, repent, 

for the sins of a country from which it was sent, 

it begs for repair on its hopeless descent 

into the realm of the cities with their baglady biddies, 

hopin' to scrounge up a nickel, a dime, 

to return to the glory of FDR time.

cracks in the concrete taint the attempts 

of the church goin' shopkeeps to keep the stoops swept, 

and the street walkin' hobos get in the way 

of the beat cop's duty to make every day 

a pillar in quicksand no one man could sway, 

cuz the time is a-comin' and the time has a-went 

for the rise of a city from its hopeless descent

hopin' for a windfall, gropin' for a line, waitin' for a handout, strivin' to standout, 

as a beggar in need, as an actor in line, hopin' for the part and waitin' for the time that the check's in the mail and the rent is on time, 

cause they're bein' evicted, they're bein' sent out, 

they're bein' rejected without a doubt, 

to the back alley hideouts, like yesterday's wares, 

out on the sidewalks and off of the stairs, 

with no time to worry and no time to wait, 

they're out on their asses, they carry no weight, 

in the legal procedings of aristocrat views, 

they've not done their duty, not paid their dues, 

in the capitalist country they chose to peruse, 

they're trash on the sidewalks and scandals in news