Lyrics
You were dreamin'
On a park bench
'Bout a broad highway somewhere
When the music from the carillon
Seemed to hurl your heart out there
Past the scientific darkness
Past the fireflies that float
To an angel bending down
To wrap you in his warmest coat

And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands

Still you argue for an option
Still you angle for your case
Like you wouldn't know a burning bush
If it blew up in your face
Yeah, we scheme about the future
And we dream about the past
When just a simple reaching out
Might build a bridge that lasts

And you ask
What am I not doing
He says
Your voice cannot command
In time you will move mountains
And it will come through your hands
Through your hands

So whatever your hands find to do
You must do with all your heart
There are thoughts enough
To blow men's minds
And tear great worlds apart
There's a healing touch to find you
On that broad highway somewhere
To lift you high
As music flyin'
Through the angel's hair

Don't ask what you are not doing
Because your voice cannot command
In time we will move mountains
And it will come through your hands

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): JOHN HIATT




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