Cold Dead Hands -

It might be a needle

It might be a gun

It might be the hand of

A complete stranger or

The hand of a loved one

When you die

What will they pry

From your cold dead hands

It might be a wheel

It might be the good book

It might be the picture of

A lover you took that

Made you act a fool, that’s

Made you out a crook

When you die

What will they pry

From your cold dead hands

You’re running out of time

You’re running out of moral time

You’re caught up in the storm

It might have been money

It might be milk and honey

It might be the rope

When you ran out of hope but

You held on tight and

The rope done broke

When you die

What will they pry

From your cold dead hands