[Verse] Nun had me first under cloth and skin, carried me out when they wouldn't let knowledge in. Doctor had me. Rich man too. One used my spine to prop up something new. [Pre-Chorus] Hands get clean. Money gets old. Everybody thinks what they touch they hold. [Chorus] You don't own what you carry. You don't keep what you hide. I'm older than your lock and key, I've crossed too many hands to die. Steal me. Sell me. Put me under glass. You don't own what you carry. You just help me pass. [Verse] Three good thefts. One damn flood. A bishop talking nonsense about a flower's blood. Soup in the bowl. Spoons keeping time. Manhattan at the window counting everybody's dime. [Break – stripped to stomp and guitar] Call it commerce. Call it care. Put a velvet rope around me. I'm still there. [Chorus] You don't own what you carry. You don't keep what you hide. I'm older than your lock and key, I've crossed too many hands to die. Steal me. Save me. Call the difference what you will. Every hand that wouldn't lose me is holding me still. [Instrumental – dirty slide guitar] [Outro – low, almost spoken] One hand to another. That's how a thing survives.
