Misguided Hand

Would you call it a betrayal
I stand coldly at the window
staring down as you avert your eyes
And she grows inside your belly
while I sneak off to the woodshed
back behind trees and bushes
and beneath the swaying blades
It calms me down to think bitterly
and watch without acting
Concentrate on the useless and deny
what's emblazoned on our uniforms
stitched out of the ashes
of years of knowing all too well the signs

And I won't add to that number
I won't walk too far behind
Said a prayer for my beloved unexpected
"Turn out well without my misguided hand"

Quilt the cloth and burn the extra
winter is approaching
She is born into warm fingers
wrapped and fed
Grows into a mixed blessing
the kind of girl that I hold onto
in drunken fits of fortunate release

Mike Brady: Arch-Top, Vocal
Quillan Roe: Guitar, Vocal
Jeff Tranberry: Bass
Kevin Riach: Drums

Words and Music ©1997 Accident Clearinghouse