daddies hands (lyrics to an original piece)
oh hey, do you remember the first time you saw me,
did you think to yourself that you were sorry for what would become of you and I
oh I can still remember thinking to myself how much like a mountain you were, stoney faced and weathered and your hands were like stones that fell from the mountain side
but I knew better to see under the rubble
a troubled heart
and scars that run deeper than the ocean
swaying to the motion of the life you found yourself in.
And you were a workin man
You would dig and dig and dig but six feet is never deep enough to bury your pride
just to bury you alive and maybe some of the dreams you once had as a boy with smoother hands
but now you’re a man
whose hands tell stories
Chorus 1:
Oh, daddies hands are stretched and worn
like the old parchment found
in the leather bound
books I used to read as a boy
under the apple tree in our back yard, those hands are big and rough and hard and scarred
and dirty from the soil of the land
I could see the stories in my daddies hands
Verse 2:
oh pops you were impossible to read impossible to see no emotion came from thee
until I was 23 and your brother died and you were
beside yourself with gritted teeth
and pent up grief and the reality of loneliness that creeps in like the cold that touches the leaves
as they shiver in the fall and autumn comes
oh I remember the smell of cigarettes and gasoline and oil from when we took apart the engine block of that big black truck and I felt stuck
as you made me stick around to help and I had hated that
but we were closer then and I’d give anything just to go right back to when
it was just you and I taking rides out to the country side
to shoot the shit and confide in you a little more than I did
otherwise
oh daddy, do you remember when you would hold my little hand because
I can
I could feel the stories in my daddies hands.
Chorus 1:
Oh, daddies hands are stretched and worn
like the old parchment found
in the leather bound
books I used to read as a boy
under the apple tree in our back yard, those hands are big and rough and hard and scarred
and dirty from the soil of the land
I could see the stories in my daddies hands
Chorus 2:
I will bury you beside the old apple tree
that your bare hands kept alive for me so you could watch me climb up to see the stars
Yes, I will bury you beside the old apple tree
that your bare hands kept alive for me so you could watch me climb up to the heavens
Oh that tree has survived so so many storms
And now my hands are just like yours
Verse 3:
Now you’re old and gray and we have parted ways
and you live your days with worn down hands that gave up hope and still
dig graves and six feet down is never deep enough to bury your pride just to bury you alive and maybe some of the dreams you once had as a boy
with smoother hands but now you’re a man
whose hands tell stories
Chorus 2/Ending:
I will bury you beside the old apple tree
that your bare hands kept alive for me so you could watch me climb up to see the stars
Yes, I will bury you beside the old apple tree
that your bare hands kept alive for me so you could watch me climb up to the heavens
Oh that tree has survived so so many storms
And now my hands are just like yours
and time is rough as desert sands
and now I’ve got my daddies hands.