Through Your Hands

Don Henley

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    You were dreamin'
    On a park bench
    'bout a broad highway somewhere
    When the music from the carillon
    Seemed to hurl your heart out there
    Past the scientific darkness
    Past the fireflies that float
    To an angel bending down
    To wrap you in his warmest coat

    And you ask
    What am I not doing
    He says
    Your voice cannot command
    In time you will move mountains
    And it will come through your hands

    Still you argue for an option
    Still you angle for your case
    Like you wouldn't know a burning bush
    If it blew up in your face
    Yeah, we scheme about the future
    And we dream about the past
    When just a simple reaching out
    Might build a bridge that lasts

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    And you ask
    What am I not doing
    He says
    Your voice cannot command
    In time you will move mountains
    And it will come through your hands
    Through your hands

    So whatever your hands find to do
    You must do with all your heart
    There are thoughts enough
    To blow men's minds
    And tear great worlds apart
    There's a healing touch to find you
    On that broad highway somewhere
    To lift you high
    As music flyin'
    Through the angel's hair

    Don't ask what you are not doing
    Because your voice cannot command
    In time we will move mountains
    And it will come through your hands

    Song details

    Composition: John Hiatt

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