Hands
What do I do with my hands?
The old comedy stand by
But now the joke is lost on me
The laughter seems gone forever
As I try to figure out the answer
For so long it was never a question
Seemed like I would never wonder again
But then lack of time caught up
And now I'm left to sit and stare
Feeling awkward and unsure
Idle hands are never good
But even the devil couldn't move me
No temptation, sin, or trap
Will ever tempt me again
Instead I'll always wonder
What do I do with my hands?
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