My Hands

In the morning my sun will rise
And my eyes will help my brother see
Straight to you
And the preacher's daughter has made it clear
She's not coming back home

All the people talk about it
And tell me exactly where you're wrong
All the people talk about it
Impressing, impressing everyone

I thought I knew, I thought I knew my best side
But I couldn't be anymore wrong
No I couldn't be anymore wrong than you
And I kill, kill, kill
Oh God I kill this man inside of me

And my father ask me why
I try so hard to be his son
And my father ask me why
I try so hard impressing everyone

My eyes were made to see
To see your grace
My hands to touch,
Pick up, and be your stone

And the blood on my hands has migrated up
Into my tongue, into my tongue
And the son on my side
Hasn't yet passed me by
But it's making the blood in my mouth,
The blood in my mouth become dry

The blood in my mouth becomes dry