There is a wrist And it is terrible Terrible fingers Are snapping all the time Here comes my hand There are flames That have a weight They become fingers They become strings of light We are bound By chains we cannot see And there are strictures That hold us to the earth Here comes my hand
There is a wrist And it is terrible Terrible fingers Are snapping all the time Here comes my hand There are flames That have a weight They become fingers They become strings of light We are bound By chains we cannot see And there are strictures That hold us to the earth Here comes my hand
