Tina Dickow
Hands
There are hands like lilies in white
And hands like roses in bloom
There are hands that hold on too tight
And others that let go too soon

There are hands that wanna take what is yours
And hands that much rather share
There are rough insensitive parts
And gentle hands folded in prayer

Folded in prayer
Folded in prayer
The hand is a servant of the heart
Some bring pieces together
While others break pieces apart
Others break pieces apart

There are soft hands full of melancholy
And hands that tremble with fright
Some little ease but passionately
While others are awkward and shy

A baby's hand, so honest and small
Still carries nothing of its own
Furrowed hand that has seen it all
Are calm in the evenings since glow
About to let go
About to let go
The hand is a servant of the heart
Some bring pieces together
While others break pieces apart
Others break pieces apart

You can take mine whoever you are
You can take mine whoever you are

Like the difference in people alive
So is the difference in hands
Some are fluttering birds in the sky
That no living soul understands

Like fluttering birds up in the sky
That no living soul understands

The soul understands
The soul understands