Boy With (100) Hands

Crooked Fingers

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    A boy with one hundred hands
    Came groping through the dark
    And stumbled upon the light you gave off
    And fell gently into your arms
    One hand it held the earth
    Another stirred the sea
    One handed you a key and said:
    We've come to set you free
    'Cause you're better than the world you live in
    The gossips and the clowns
    Deep in your darkest dungeon singing
    So no one can hear a sound
    So no hand can come to pick you up
    And no hand can pull you down

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    I drew a picture book
    With pictures green and blue
    And sent them off to a museum
    All this I did for you
    But one hand had used your heart
    Held beating in the light
    With a heart like that one hundred hands
    Could never paint quite right
    'Cause you're better than the world you live in
    And nobody told you so
    Trapped in your ghetto gardening
    With no helping hand to grow
    Just one hand to hold you in my heart
    And one hand to let you go

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