These Hands
Born into these hands
Small, clumsy masses of atoms
That try to find balance daily
These hands that once so small
Wrapped around my parents fingers tightly bound
And couldn't close
These hands that touched the ground
And found new places to explore
And make some sounds...they'd make some sounds
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands learned to articulate
And create with delicate frustration
When it wouldn't go my way
These hands that someday
With sweaty, clammy, nervous joy
Found the hands of a boy...then let him go
Cuz these hands grew to know
The ebb and flow of joys and sorrows
Paper cuts and callouses
And when they tried to balance this
It would all slip right through
These hands can't hold it all…That’s not what they do
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands are for one moment at a time
I try to hold that in my heart and mind
Because they buzz with such a possibility of what they can do
We add yours and add theirs too it's like, woah
We can actually do something together
To make this world better
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
​
Born into these hands
Small, clumsy masses of atoms that matter
Daily
​