I look down upon these hands of mine
long artist's fingers, worn, callused, padded, and harsh
I have wanted, needed to build so much
but they are not up to the task
they are tired, need to rest

I have shouldered a future I do not want
those to care for, those to bow to
I cannot see the future, once so bright
my sight has dimmed, bitter, broken light
a glimmer here, a glimmer there
that all I allow to distract my path

Its a path, thats all I know
sparkles in the distances
Isolated, broken glass is all I'm worth
twisting in a gale, I refuse to change
round and round nothing to change

Is an angel's wings beating my soul?
steel tipped feathers to the bone?
I hear the voices, but I think they lie
the truth is reality, ****** broad
I know my fate, to be alone and bound
my hands, broken, bleeding, cold

I cry, gashing my eyes with tears
this cold, cold world
I made this place,
with broken hands,
my own