Why

These Hands

Why

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by  ABELAMIN

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These Hands

	  		


F             C                       G 
   I wear the customary clothes of my time, 

     D                  Bb     Dm     F      Bb 
Like Jesus did, with no reason not to die 

F                 F7                     Bb 
   Facing history,   with little to no irony 

     F            C              Dm            Bb 
Like Im some forgotten southern city, Sherman razed 

F               C           Dm              Bb 
Still hid under thick smoke after all these years 

      F             F7                 Dm 
These hands, are my fathers hands but smaller 

                Bb 
Soaked in paint thinner, 

                              Dm 
Until theyre so dry coming together, 

              Gm                      F 
They make the sound of resisting each other 

         Gm          Bb         F       Gm    F 
A shrill squeal like two moving rubber, tires touching 

Gm   F        Gm   F 
Hide nothing, hide nothing 
		  

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