The sky's clouding over, there's a breeze off the mountain A chill in the air and the sound of the rain It washes the trees and it fills the gray river But it won't clean these hands and it can't heal the pain I'm nobody special, I'm somebody's neighbor Had a job in a store and I made decent pay My wife and I lived in a two-room apartment We'd a nine-month-old daughter and one on the way
It was Saturday night, I'd been working till seven And then I'd gone out with the boys for a drink Got home after nine, I was tired and hungry And a little bit drunk, and in no mood to think My wife was asleep and the baby was crying Dirty dishes and diapers were piled around She woke up and saw me, said, "Please feed the baby, I'm tired and sick, and I need to lie down."
I guess it was building a long time inside me It must have been smoldering over the years The dishes, the crying, the tiny apartment Something let go, and my eyes blurred with tears It seemed like her crying would go on forever Louder and louder it pounded my brain My thoughts were a fog of frustration and anger I had to do something to stop all the pain
They say they don't know if she'll ever be walking They say that my wife and new baby are well They tell me I'll be here a little while longer But there's one thing that nobody ever can tell What makes a man raise his hand to a baby? How can he strike his own daughter or son? I wake every day to a nightmare of sorrow And I wish that these hands could undo what they've done