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