Song | Through Your Hands |
Artist | Joan Baez |
Album | Play Me Backwards |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Hiatt | |
You were dreaming on a park bench | |
'Bout a broad highway somewhere | |
When the music from the carillon | |
Seemed to hurl your heart out there | |
Past the scientific darkness | |
Past the fireflies that float | |
To an angel bending down | |
To wrap you in her warmest coat | |
And you ask, "What am I not doing?" | |
She says "Your voice cannot command. | |
In time, you will move mountains, | |
And it will come through your hands." | |
Still you argue for an option | |
Still you angle for your case | |
Like you wouldn't know a burning bush | |
If it blew up in your face | |
Yeah, we scheme about the future | |
And we dream about the past | |
When just a simple reaching out | |
Might build a bridge that lasts | |
And you ask, "What am I not doing?" | |
She says "Your voice cannot command. | |
In time, you will move mountains, | |
And it will come through your hands." | |
So whatever your hands find to do | |
You must do with all your heart | |
There are thoughts enough | |
To blow men's minds and tear great worlds apart | |
There's a healing touch to find you | |
On that broad highway somewhere | |
To lift you high | |
As music flying | |
Through the angel's hair. | |
Don't ask what you are not doing | |
Because your voice cannot command | |
In time we will move mountains | |
And it will come through your hands |
zuo ci : Hiatt | |
You were dreaming on a park bench | |
' Bout a broad highway somewhere | |
When the music from the carillon | |
Seemed to hurl your heart out there | |
Past the scientific darkness | |
Past the fireflies that float | |
To an angel bending down | |
To wrap you in her warmest coat | |
And you ask, " What am I not doing?" | |
She says " Your voice cannot command. | |
In time, you will move mountains, | |
And it will come through your hands." | |
Still you argue for an option | |
Still you angle for your case | |
Like you wouldn' t know a burning bush | |
If it blew up in your face | |
Yeah, we scheme about the future | |
And we dream about the past | |
When just a simple reaching out | |
Might build a bridge that lasts | |
And you ask, " What am I not doing?" | |
She says " Your voice cannot command. | |
In time, you will move mountains, | |
And it will come through your hands." | |
So whatever your hands find to do | |
You must do with all your heart | |
There are thoughts enough | |
To blow men' s minds and tear great worlds apart | |
There' s a healing touch to find you | |
On that broad highway somewhere | |
To lift you high | |
As music flying | |
Through the angel' s hair. | |
Don' t ask what you are not doing | |
Because your voice cannot command | |
In time we will move mountains | |
And it will come through your hands |
zuò cí : Hiatt | |
You were dreaming on a park bench | |
' Bout a broad highway somewhere | |
When the music from the carillon | |
Seemed to hurl your heart out there | |
Past the scientific darkness | |
Past the fireflies that float | |
To an angel bending down | |
To wrap you in her warmest coat | |
And you ask, " What am I not doing?" | |
She says " Your voice cannot command. | |
In time, you will move mountains, | |
And it will come through your hands." | |
Still you argue for an option | |
Still you angle for your case | |
Like you wouldn' t know a burning bush | |
If it blew up in your face | |
Yeah, we scheme about the future | |
And we dream about the past | |
When just a simple reaching out | |
Might build a bridge that lasts | |
And you ask, " What am I not doing?" | |
She says " Your voice cannot command. | |
In time, you will move mountains, | |
And it will come through your hands." | |
So whatever your hands find to do | |
You must do with all your heart | |
There are thoughts enough | |
To blow men' s minds and tear great worlds apart | |
There' s a healing touch to find you | |
On that broad highway somewhere | |
To lift you high | |
As music flying | |
Through the angel' s hair. | |
Don' t ask what you are not doing | |
Because your voice cannot command | |
In time we will move mountains | |
And it will come through your hands |