These Hands Are Only Nineteen

[Verse 1 — solitary piano, close-mic] These hands are only nineteen. There's still polish on the nails. There's a scar across the knuckle From a bike and rusty rails. They've played chords wrong on a piano, Held a boy's hand once or twice, Burned themselves makin' breakfast, Never followed good advice. They're ordinary hands, child. Least they look that way to me. But lately when I raise 'em... The whole world's listenin'. [Verse 2 — fingerpicked acoustic guitar joins] I can feel the little choices, Every might and could've been, Like a million open windows With another world within. There's the glass before it's broken. There's the word before it's said. There's the road where someone makes it home, And one where someone's dead. And sometimes if I'm quiet, I can reach between the two— And take the thing that would've been... And tell it what to do. [Pre-Chorus — low strings enter] Jesus, that's a terrible thing To put in someone's hands. 'Specially a girl who's only lately Learned just how little she understands. [Chorus — still restrained] 'Cause I could change the rain, I could change the road, I could loosen every burden, I could lighten every load. I could take one little sorrow And decide it doesn't start. I could change the whole damn universe... But should I change yer heart, child? [brief instrumental] Nah. No, I don't think I should. [Verse 3 — soft percussion begins] But there's hunger in the kindness. That's the bit that frightens me. 'Cause once ya know the cage can open, Ya start seein' every key. Why should children ever go hungry If I can make the harvest grow? Why should someone die tomorrow If today I simply tell it no? Why leave mountains where they're standin' If they're blockin' someone's sun? And if I can mend a million things... Why stop.... at only .... one? [Pre-Chorus — building] They'll say some things happen for a reason. Sure. People say a lotta things. But it's easier believin' fate When ya cannot pull its strings. [Chorus — drums and strings grow] I could change the rain. I could change the road. Put the pieces back together 'Fore anybody knows. I could steal a war from history, Take the bullet from the gun. I could whisper to tomorrow, [Whispering] No, child. [Forceful] That's not how this one's done. I could change the whole damn universe, Hold every endin' in these hands— But these hands are only nineteen. How the hell should they understand? [Bridge — everything drops except piano] Mama taught these hands to pray. Daddy taught 'em how to fight. Alton taught me hold on tighter. Billy taught me wrong from right. They held microphones and textbooks. They've held flowers. They've held grief. They've held onto things already gone Long past believin' they'd come free. [pause] And they've dug their nails into the earth Beggin' not to disappear. So don't tell me I should trust meself. I know the girl who's standin' here. [quietly] She's frightened. She's angry. She's curious. And sometimes... She thinks she'd be a helluva a lot better at this Than whichever god's been doin' it. And knows that ain't right. [Instrumental build — acoustic guitar, heartbeat percussion] [Verse 4 — voice stronger, almost exhilarated] What if rivers ran where needed? What if deserts learned the rain? What if every broken body Could be taught to mend again? What if borders became pencil lines That somebody could erase? What if hatred were the strange thing And kindness commonplace? What if all those bloody miracles We've begged heaven to provide— Were waitin' in a nineteen-year-old girl... Who's scared to even try? [Pre-Chorus — rising] Maybe power isn't knowin' That the universe will bend. Maybe power's havin' every reason to— And still askin' where it would e'er end. [Final Chorus — soaring, but not triumphant] I could change the rain! I could change the road! I could reach into tomorrow And rewrite what I've been told. I could gather every never, Every can't and every won't, Lay 'em tremblin' on the table— And decide which ones I don't. I could change the whole damn universe. And God... I think it knows I can. 'Cause sometimes when I raise these hands now, I can feel it waitin' there. [music pulls back suddenly] Waitin' for a word. Waitin' for a wish. Waitin' for a wantin' nineteen-year-old To finally ask for more than this. [Outro — piano, returning to the opening melody] These hands are only nineteen. Still got polish on the nails. Still that scar across the knuckle From a bike and rusty rails. They're ordinary hands, love. Least that's what they used to be. [softly] And I don't know if I should change the world... [pause] But God help me— I can finally see... some things I'd change. [Quiet spoken] Things that me heart says should na be.