"For Once My Hands Are Still" lyrics
It was a rainy evening
Not the cold kind, but the warm and sticky kind
The sun had just set and I can't stop thinking about the way my hair is stuck to the back of my neck
There's a dirt pathway lit by a single porch light covered in moths
The buzz of cicadas drown out each thought and every step
I reach for the door, pausing for a moment before I turn the handle
I remind myself that I'm here for one reason
I wouldn't call it revenge
I could call it peace, but that doesn't feel right either
All I know is that one way or another, within the hour
I will be walking out of this house once and for all with what I want
The pendulum will swing in my favor this time, even if I have to push it myself
The door creaks when it opens but no one seems to notice or care
I go inside and instinctively turn to my right
The map of this house will be etched in my mind until the day I die
There's a long, narrow hallway
Like the ones you see in scary movies and it's scared me since I was a kid
I make my way down, tiptoeing on the wood floor
After what feels like an eternity, I pause before reaching the door at the end
I realize that today, for the first time in my life, I wasn't scared walking down that hallway
I wasn't scared of the second door to my right
And I wasn't scared of the yellow, cigarette-stained walls that surround it
I wasn't scared of what waited for me inside
He's sitting on the bed watching TV with his back to me
His silhouette seems to glow in the dark room
Like I'm a hunter in the forest with a night-vision scope
And all I can hear are the sounds of war
The TV is blaring but there's a stillness to my mind
My hands are shaking but I don't feel them
My vision goes dark and I don't think twice before I swing
It happened in a flash
I return to myself for a fraction of a second
We're on the floor next to his bed
My knees pressed hard into his torso
Who knew that our necks are so fragile?
My only takeaway is that blood is darker in real life than it is on the screen
It's darker than my red Chucks and it's darker than the walk up to the porch
And it's darker than the middle of the desert with no fire to keep you or me or him warm
I stand up off the floor, the sounds of the war on the TV continue
As they do in real life, as does everything else
There is no true moment of grace for anyone or anything
I turn to leave and for the first time in my life, my hands are still
Bruised, bloody, and broken, but still
For once my hands were still
Not the cold kind, but the warm and sticky kind
The sun had just set and I can't stop thinking about the way my hair is stuck to the back of my neck
There's a dirt pathway lit by a single porch light covered in moths
The buzz of cicadas drown out each thought and every step
I reach for the door, pausing for a moment before I turn the handle
I remind myself that I'm here for one reason
I wouldn't call it revenge
I could call it peace, but that doesn't feel right either
All I know is that one way or another, within the hour
I will be walking out of this house once and for all with what I want
The pendulum will swing in my favor this time, even if I have to push it myself
The door creaks when it opens but no one seems to notice or care
I go inside and instinctively turn to my right
The map of this house will be etched in my mind until the day I die
There's a long, narrow hallway
Like the ones you see in scary movies and it's scared me since I was a kid
I make my way down, tiptoeing on the wood floor
After what feels like an eternity, I pause before reaching the door at the end
I realize that today, for the first time in my life, I wasn't scared walking down that hallway
I wasn't scared of the second door to my right
And I wasn't scared of the yellow, cigarette-stained walls that surround it
I wasn't scared of what waited for me inside
He's sitting on the bed watching TV with his back to me
His silhouette seems to glow in the dark room
Like I'm a hunter in the forest with a night-vision scope
And all I can hear are the sounds of war
The TV is blaring but there's a stillness to my mind
My hands are shaking but I don't feel them
My vision goes dark and I don't think twice before I swing
It happened in a flash
I return to myself for a fraction of a second
We're on the floor next to his bed
My knees pressed hard into his torso
Who knew that our necks are so fragile?
My only takeaway is that blood is darker in real life than it is on the screen
It's darker than my red Chucks and it's darker than the walk up to the porch
And it's darker than the middle of the desert with no fire to keep you or me or him warm
I stand up off the floor, the sounds of the war on the TV continue
As they do in real life, as does everything else
There is no true moment of grace for anyone or anything
I turn to leave and for the first time in my life, my hands are still
Bruised, bloody, and broken, but still
For once my hands were still
