These hands I have speak,
But not the same words from my lips,
My hands write the words I can not talk,
For my lips can not speak the words I want, only my finger tips.
The true words I want to say,
They do not come from my mouth,
For it is to hard, may it be easier than my hands,
And I would speak more truly words not from the south.
For my hands aren't true beauties,
For they speak more of it than my lips do,
My hands speak truth,
For my lips speak lies, even to you.
To my lovers and to my friends,
Oh lord, my hands are more holy than my lips,
Maybe there is a way to have both to speak true beauty,
Even through the way of the ships.
