The hands
You’re trying to warm the steel
But it will just steal your warmth
And grow cold again, but so cold you will feel
So don’t try to make the steel warm
Hoping that then it will warm you someday
Don’t try to tame the storm
Don’t waste your days away
The stones are falling down on us
Stones of poisoned and unfulfilled hopes
But who’s throwing these stones - who does?
I think that it’s us who pull the ropes
The ropes are all in our hands
And we all seem to be on the ropes
Does it scare you when you understand
That we can all turn into stones?