Born into these hands
Small, clumsy masses of atoms 
That try to find balance daily 
These hands that once so small
Wrapped around my parents fingers tightly bound 
And couldn't close
These hands that touched the ground
And found new places to explore
And make some sounds... they'd make some sounds 
 
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands learned to articulate
And create with delicate frustration
When it wouldn't go my way 
These hands that someday
With sweaty, clammy, nervous joy
Found the hands of a boy... then let him go
Cuz these hands grew to know 
The ebb and flow of joys and sorrows
Paper cuts and callouses 
And when they tried to balance this 
It would all slip right through 
These hands can't hold it all… That's not what they do 
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
 
These hands are for one moment at a time
I try to hold that in my heart and mind 
Because they buzz with such a possibility of what they can do
We add yours and add theirs too it's like, woah
We can actually do something together 
To make this world better 
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
Born into these hands 
Small, clumsy masses of atoms that matter
Daily
Born into these hands 
Small, clumsy masses of atoms that matter
Daily
Born into these hands 
Small, clumsy masses of atoms that matter
Daily
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
These hands, these hands, these hands oh
Born into these hands 
Small, clumsy masses of atoms that matter
Daily