Tiny Hands

Tiny hands are counting every second The minutes hours and days go by outside Tiny throws the salt behind his shoulder And straps you in to take you for a ride Tiny hands knows all your secrets He holds them in his tiny hands The numbing pain the tears the pins and needles The smile that says that something’s wrong again Icy skies as far as the horizon We’re on the wrong road staring at the end Tiny hands knows where you’re going From A to B and back again And tiny tails you like a shadow And holds you in his tiny hands