Hand Of Glory

«Don't understand
Tallow drips upon a withered hand
The hidden power of an unborn arm
The broken branch of the tree
A finger dance in the switching yard
Hand of Glory
Don’t understand
I am but a thief and not a man
The wool pattern on a shouting jar
The broken branch of the tree
One eye sent it to a distant star
Hand of Glory
Beneath the shadow of a gallows tall
I took the branch of the tree
Let it lie in a picklin' jar
Hand of Glory"