Hands

Extend it and get what you can Risk the burning of your own Flip it up to a stranger To let her read your palm Sweat the words that fall like toy pianos Wave from out your window At the one you love the most Wring your bones as he turns to touch another These are the things that mine have done These are the things that mine have done You shake You hold They catch you in a stumble They quake They fold Hands will let you down One can make a dollar In red sign out the soul Two can make the promise of a gesture One can make a collar With a grip about the throat Rub your back while his brother Fakes a pistol These are the things I know are done These are the things I know are done