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Low Water
-
Hands Over My Head
Spinin' my wheels or shapin' the clay?
fastenin' my boots or
kneeling to pray?
stayin' steadfast behind bedroom doors
a
cyclone of ashes on a concrete floor
i keep tellin' myself they don't
write 'em like that anymore
the kicked black cat landed in my path
(let it be my destination)
unlucky at love but gettin' good at math
(let it be my destination)
late night calls just to check on the folks
a joke that hits home like a stick in the spokes
a line can kill but a
word can continue to choke
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with a body of mostly water
and a
heart made out of foam
as long as your hands are over my head
i
will always have a home
just a poor donkey in another life
just a
decoy not a proper wife
just a bronze heart and the dull edge of a
knife... with a body of mostly water
and a heart made out of foam
as long as your hands are over my head
i will always have a home
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