Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Don Henley
Vocals
Mindy Stein
Background Vocals
Timothy B. Schmit
Bass
Scott Crago
Drums
Frank Simes
Guitar
Kevin Dukes
Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
John Hiatt
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Don Henley
Producer
Rob Jacobs
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
You were dreaming on a park bench
'Bout a broad highway somewhere
When the music from the carillon
Seemed to hurl your heart out there
Past the scientific darkness
Past the fireflies that float
To an angel bending down to wrap you in his warmest coat
And you ask "What am I not doing?"
He says "Your voice cannot command
But in time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands"
Still you argue for an option
Still you angle for your case
Like you wouldn't know a burning bush
If it blew up in your face
Yeah, we scheme about the future
And we dream about the past
When just a simple reaching out
Might build a bridge that lasts
And you ask "What am I not doing?"
He says "Your voice cannot command
But in time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands"
So whatever your hands find to do
You must do with all your heart
There are thoughts enough to blow men's minds
And tear great worlds apart
There's a healing touch to find you
On that broad highway somewhere
To lift you high as music flying
Through the angel's hair
So don't ask what you are not doing
Because your voice cannot command
In time we will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Through your hands
Through your hands
Written by: John Hiatt

