Whose Hands

The ad said '57 Chevrolet
Take three hundred if you haul it away
It don't run but it's still good for parts
Six months of work and a coat of paint
Daddy had it running by my birthday
I turned the key when I turned 16
God knows I loved that car

To anyone else, it might've been just a scrapyard pile of cash
But daddy's hands and a craftsman's set somehow brought it back

Like a bible to a preacher
A guitar to old Cash
Like that number three to Earnhardt
Turn four on the final lap
Yeah, some things ain't worth nothing
'Til you find who they're made for
Like a prayer sent up needs Jesus
My old heart, it sure needs yours
In the end, it all depends
On whose hands you put them in

Another two for one kinda Friday night
Just halfway through my first Coors Light
But you walked in and somehow I was drunk
'Cause I was saying things I'd never say
Swaying like I'd never sway
You pulled me on that dance floor and I was done

My two left feet couldn't dance if they tried
But in your hands, I could waltz into a brand new life

Like a bible to a preacher
A guitar to old Cash
Like that number three to Earnhardt
Turn four on the final lap
Yeah, some things ain't worth nothing
'Til you find who they're made for
Like a prayer sent up needs Jesus
My old heart, it sure needs yours
In the end, it all depends
On whose hands you put them in

We never could've dreamed this life we're living in
Guess a good book tells the truth
When it says give it all to him

'Cause some things ain't worth nothing
'Til you find who they're made for
Like a prayer sent up needs Jesus
My old heart it sure needs yours
In the end, it all depends
On whose hands you put them in



Credits
Writer(s): Justin Douglas Morgan, Lance Alan Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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