• Song:

    The Hands Are His

  • Artist:

    The Bruised Sycophants

B7
Now you?re here to rise my blues
                       A
Don?t you meddle with my dirty shoes
                    B7
The mud?s about to hide our thoughts
                     A
And make us liars behind these walls
                      B7
Time and time again we?re replacing
                     A
The wounds are transparent, saving graces
    B7
If God decides to put an end to this
      A
Destiny will say the hands are His

( B  A )

So say what you want, now...
C#                           D
     I want my artificial spring
              E7                          Em
And all the things illusions lean to bring
C#                                  D
The unlimited sea through watered dreams
                 E7               Em
And the earth below my feet

( Em )

                                 B7
For you it may seem like contradiction
                                  A
You say I?m not taking care of myself
                                   B7
Some moments we?re confused by intuitions
                                   D
And some books can?t fulfill our shelves
B7
Places and times, the minutes weep
         A
For the same motives of ours
           B7
While the darkness prepares the souls
         A
For our next graceful hours
Bm                   F#m
And time moves so easily
                                       Bm           F#m
What makes us believe that slipping is natural
Bm                                       F#m
And the places we?ve been aren?t refuges only
                                  Bm         F#m
?cause we're not that apart after all


So say what you want,
C#                                                D
?Cause we?ll pay attention to the thoughts that swing
                                       E        Em7
through the rhythm of the beat of our wings
C#                                      D
Give yourself a little to artificial spring
                     E       Em7
You don?t need to believe in everything you?ve seen...

( B  A )

                        B7
And now you?re here to rise this blues
               G
Regardless of my dirty shoes...
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