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



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