Hands

Within these hands are carved the plans Of a man on a mission Etched on these hands are the secrets To the hieroglyphs of the heavens Spirits rest easy on these nailbeds Grooves get caught in the webs of these double joints One finger points to the clock, the other pulls the stops These hands are all I've got Within these hands I massage the spans and spines of time With these hands I leave my imprint on your mind With these hands I call forth the divine in Broken-beated time These hands of a sepia man fan the flames Yet remain unchanged These hands of flesh and bone move freely Manipulate reality, unleashing what is meant to be Surely enough, surely enough, surely enough I cannot take it on my own, ah baby on my own, surely enough Surely enough, surely enough, surely enough I cannot take it on my own, ah baby on my own, surely enough Surely enough, surely enough, surely enough I cannot take it on my own, ah baby on my own, surely enough Surely enough, surely enough, surely enough I cannot take it on my own, ah baby on my own, surely enough