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There is a wrist
And it is terrible
Terrible fingers
Are snapping all the time

Here comes my hand

There are flames
That have a weight
They become fingers
They become strings of light

We are bound
By chains we cannot see
And there are strictures
That hold us to the earth

Here comes my hand
There is a wrist   And it is terrible   Terrible fingers    Are snapping all the time      Here comes my hand      There are flames   That have a weight   They become fingers    They become strings of light      We are bound   By chains we cannot see   And there are strictures   That hold us to the earth      Here comes my hand
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