Hands Off - Joan Osborne

They made you clean and shiny

They stuffed your pockets full of cash

They gave you 99 servants

To carry out your trash

But your soul is showing

I can see right through

Hands off of things

That don’t belong to you

Are you feelin' like a foxhound?

Do you like the chase?

Are you aching for a pretty palm

To leave a mark on your face?

But the women don’t like you

No matter what you do

Hands off of things

That don’t belong to you

Well the devil’s on the riser

He’s got the microphone

He’s an old scandalizer

He smells the meat on the bone

Do you ever miss the days when

You were young and true?

Hands off of things

That don’t belong to you

Well the guns are firing

And the children fall

And the world is crying

For the waste of it all

Your crimes are bloody

And you know it’s true

Hands off of things

That don’t belong to you

Hands off of the fathers

Hands off of the mothers

Hands off of the sisters

Hands off of the brothers

Hands off of the oceans

Hands off of the sky

Hands off of the children

Give them wings to fly

Well the ice is melting

And the woods are ablaze

And the rain’s been raining

For 99 days

Get out of the roadway

We got work to do

Hands off of things

That don’t belong to you

Our time is wastin'

Your time’s about through

Hands off of things

That don’t belong to you