Hands of Orlac

How I’d like to shake this body off
I want to adore
The hands that hate us all
My darling there must be pieces missing?
I swear to
tell noone what becomes of you
How I’d like to shake this body off
A feather to the storm
The hands that break the soul
They will keep us spinning
Now you’re saying things you never meant
We’re really not so different
We’ll isolate the enemies
And make them help?
And my father, sire
Father, liar
Father, sire
Father, liar
How I’d like to shake this body off
And to scratch away the thorns
From the hands that will not hold
And they will not help us now