These Hands

I see a man in the alley
Hood hiding heaps of grief
These supple hands are trembling
Coat tails pass in the breeze
I smell the fear in the alley
Hood hiding heirlooms of class
These tired hands are steady
My fate is tied to the mast
Every time I see you, I am not myself
I am acting, smiling, I’m not one of them
Will I teach my children how horrendous it feels
To draw the line between skins?
Ooh
I hear my name in the alley
Shouts flicker morse with the lights
Shots fire for no reason
Ghosts with their palms open wide
Every time I see you, I am not myself
I am acting, smiling, I’m not one of them
Will I teach my children how horrendous it feels
To draw the line between skins?
Dime
See
I drop a dime in the alley
Glimmers to bring him the news
These steady hands are trying
Though they’ve done nothing for you