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lyrics

Even if intent is disguised a mans spirit
Is transparent, look for his plans you can hear it,
uh, look at his hands you stand near it
the heart of who he is as a man it stands clear with
Just a couple clues like the knuckle wounds of a fighter
or supple tools of a tradesman or subtle smooth of a writer
But oh shit so quick what a bruise and its brighter
A couple hues those knuckles do bring trouble fueling the fire
Whose heat will be remembered as the people see the embers
Some record the temperature while others seek to enter
Politicians gesture while the lawyers spit conjecture
telling you the reason why they know whats in the center
Artists recreate the flames display them to public
Designers seek to use it while dismayed they couldn't touch it
soldiers fight with bigger flames but they don't move with hidden aims
those who do the chosen few just laugh to them its just a game
See hands can be destructive force when guns and swords and fists are used
But such a horde is needed when the fucked up lord won't fit the noose
they also are creative, bringing order to the chaos
showing what we thought was godly sort of like a seance
they heal and write, they fold and pray
they break and hurt they hold the chains
they open wide and close to fists
our thoughts and hands are close as this

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