Put These Hands To Rest (for Woody)

My book of revelation was never bound
Deep in my heart it can be found
Written by writers you’ve never read
But their words may have appeared in your head

Walking in the desert I heard a corporate turbine
From its wheels I saw it pouring vintage wine
From the rails I saw a train that was up in flames
And I was too drunk to take any of the blame

All this talk of social security is confusing to me
Where is the retirement for child labor you see
Their little back and arms bent in the sign of the cross
How many retired children have you come across

There’s a disease everyone knows by its name
That governments and leaders treat as a game
From the house in Washington to the Kremlin steps
How deep can you bury someone to bury regret

Here is another chance to change our ways
The common man has made his preparations for his final days
He’ll be laid to rest in the rain
With barely a marker for his name


Chorus:
God put these hands to rest
When he placed the world on my chest
And my soul shall attest
I gave up my best, like all the rest


- Chris Mansel