• You reach out with and open hand
    And I can't fill it
    You reach out to lift me up, saint-like
    But I haven't got an offering
    You're left empty handed in more ways than one

    I'm just a fool, but I know
    I haven't got a damn thing to give you
    I know there's a price, see
    No matter how freely you give

    And I can't have you paying my debts
    I can't put the cost to you
    It's my own; it belongs to me
    Like my sins and past and dreams

    I've got no trinket to put into your waiting palm
    Or into the debtor's purse, whoever the hell
    it is who collects on these things
    I've got nothing to offer at all

    You keep waiting for my hand to touch yours
    Great as you are, you can't see
    I have to have something else to give you
    And I don't; I'm just a fool

    I'll stand beside you
    I'll fight to the death for you
    But I won't press my palm to yours
    Or take what you're offering, what I crave
    Yet you simply hold out your empty hand