These hands

These hands, write on the walls
and these hands, write nothing at all,

I'd run them down, I clear the way
the roof caves in, my mind's astray

and I run, in my bender
because these hands, they wither
I turn around, I won’t surrender
because these hands, they wither

WHOA

these hands, they play the games
and these hands, they have no names
I'd throw them back and see them go
I'd plant the seeds and watch them grow

and I run, in my bender
because these hands, they wither
well I turn around, I won't surrender
because these hands, they wither

I'd throw your fingertips away, she said she said
If I leave my hands, we'll surely stay, I said I said
I've lost my backbone, what can I do,
I'll know when I stand up to you

and I run, in the thunder,
because these hands, they wither
well I turn around, I won’t surrender
because these hands, they wither