Friday, January 26, 2007

Calloused Hands





Bones, sinews, limbs worn from work
Slavery for a few pence
Senses numb from swinging hammers
Time wears on but I’ve always got
Calloused hands to hold you
I rise early surly brute that I am
To go into the fields to harvest
The rent spent time never returns
I’m burning with desire and all I have
Are calloused hands to hold you
Mouths to feed we need so much
And there are only so many hours in the day
Way past due blue eyes full of tears
Empty pockets broken back
And calloused hands to hold you
The years go by why do you still love me
I’m ugly with the toil the soil
Of our love is dead red blooded bought
With my soul of iron and my used up strength
And my calloused hands to hold you
When they lay me to rest its best
That you move on I’m gone glory
Is not to be found in this story
But from the grave and in your dreams
Just a whisper on the wind I’ll send
My calloused hands to hold you
And when you’re old the years of gold
Will hold a promise of life beyond time
Sublime shores where I’m waiting still
A memory made real when you die you’ll feel
My calloused hands holding you.

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