joan baez
through your hands
You were dreaming on a park bench about 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 her warmest cloak  And you ask "What am I not doing?" She says, "Your voice cannot command, In time you will move mountains And it will come through your hands."  Still you angle for an option, still you argue 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 could build a bridge that lasts  And you ask "What am I not doing?" She says, "Your voice cannot command, In time you will move mountains And it will come 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 as high as music running through an angel's hair  Don't ask what you are not doing 'Cause your voice cannot command And in time we will move mountains And it will come through your hands