Paroles The work of our hands Carrie Newcomer

The work of our hands

Tooked it a while to rain, I washed the jars
In that little place set the water to stall
And at the end of the day line up the cool of the sea
12 pints of spiced peach jam, 20 jars of dew beans can
From an old recipe, that my mother gave to me
Because it's good to put a little bit by
For when the late snows fly
All that love so neatly kept
By the work of our hands

Lay hands on boards and breads and the loud machines
With shovels and rakes, and buckets of soup they clean
And I believe that we should bless every shirt ironed and pressed
So let the cruise out on the roads, those who stock shells and carry load
Whisper thanks to the ? and salts, dirty boots and cover alls(?)
And bow my head to the waitress and nurse
Took my hat to bummering clerk
All those saints with skeleton hands and the work of their hands
Work of their hands

Layed out on the counter, pull up out of ? water
The work of our hands so faithful and true
I make something barely there, music is a little more than bare(?)
So now every year I puck back tomatoes in pairs
Boil the lids and wipe the lit with the callous fingertips
And I swear by the winter ground I'll open one and pass the thing around
Let the light catch the jar, and recoil like a humble star
It's humble and physical, it's only love made visible
Hell, now I understand, it's just the work of our hands