Hands

Oh no, where are my hands

They're in my pockets

Away from your hands

And that is where they will stay

Because you are far away

You said you had something to say

But while you were talking, my feet started walking away

Before I knew where I was

I was up short of the motorway And I kept on walking

And the rain was beating down on my head

And I kept on walking

And all the while I let you call my name

But I kept doing just the same

Til I feel like trying to complain

But I don't think they will listen

Keep going, keep going and there ain't no way of knowing

When to stop, when to stop, it's tearing me apart

Cause I would like to be polite

Sit and hold you for the night

Like my parents would stick around My manners start from the ankles down

Oh no, where are my hands

They're in my pockets

Away from your hands

I'm far away from your plans

Far, far away from your plans

I keep going, keep going and there ain't no way of knowing

When I'll stop, when I'll stop and it's happening a lot

And you told me that I was your man

I try to speak, instead I follow my feet

I ran, I ran