Author Information
Speak Love with Hands
Through the eyes the of skins I'm perfect to begin with
Distorted through my drumming I'm someone to contend with
A man with a purpose or someone to converse with
Somebody lucid that's feeling it regardless
I want the strings to love me and their pickups to agree
That nothing is above me without consent and privilege
And I want them just to aid me when I see a pretty maiden
Speak and not abhor me as I set to make her sing
My burden that I've crafted stows upon my shoulder
Slapping at my fingers as I try to grasp the point
A shout will make it chuckle a reach will cast it off
My spine it climbs to find its perch and roost upon my skull
But hands like these were made for better or for worse
To knead the flesh and feel caress from paper or the pulse
And when the fiendish devil-thing may fall and croak and cry
The fame I've yet to find may find me fortune blind.
Needing a direction to turn in light of lighter loads
I'll sway and stretch from Earthly pull to sky of night abodes
Until the grasp of just and lust may center me to center
Giving me a price to pay and a door I ought to enter.
