Your Hands - Michael Malarkey

Keepin' the wolves at bay.

When there’s rust in the leaves it’s a sign that the moods gonna change,

And come pick a fight.

So I’ll wrap my self up in my jacket and gloves.

Disguised in the hide of a cow,

As if my skin weren’t enough,

To protect me from the elements.

Fighting and shouting above,

Bursting apart like a landmine,

Everything seems to uncork and fester like wine.

Loosen the strings on the boat,

I try to unwind but my minds spinning out now.

I’m still shooting blind,

And I hit things occasionally, but in fear.

The need to be tougher than any man alive.

As if my skin weren’t to cloak me from the storm.

And I need your hands,

To lie here in this ground.

And I need your heart here, so I can hear the sound,

Of my own.

Mistrusting my lucky stars,

Burned out but I still think they’re shining.

Like an ocean of watches and clocks they tell different times.

You give me your match, you give me a choice,

And our secret is silent, it’s still at night.

I could scavenge around watching the woodland.

The keys to keeping the calm.

But my minds not enough to keep my soul calm,

'till one there’s more messenger gone.

Like a rusty blade to keep the wolves at bay.

And I need your hands here,

To lighten this ground.

And I need your heart here,

So I can hear the sound.

I need your hand here,

To lighten this ground.

And I need your heart here, baby, so I can hear the sound,

of my own.