Bifurcation

Hands

Poverty stole your golden shoes It didn’t steal your laughter And heartache came to visit me But I knew it wasn’t ever after We’ll fight, not out of spite For someone must stand up for what’s right ‘Cause where there’s a man who has no voice There ours shall go singing My hands are small I know But they’re not yours, they are my own

• Hands, Jewel, 1998

Thursday, February 19th, 2009 at 9:43 am and is filed under Art. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.