Hands Too Tired to Fold

Mm... mm...
Ngikhathele, Baba... mm

I came in late, the pews were full of Sunday hats
Nobody asked me where my whole week went
The work shirt smells like bleach and the long bus home
My knees said amen before my mouth could start
(Mm-hm)
I found a seat beside a stranger's folded coat
I found a seat beside a stranger's folded coat
And held my open palms against my lap
(A child behind me hummed)
The candle by the altar leaned and shook
(Lord, I am here)
(Mm-hm)

Lord, I've got hands too tired to fold
Too tired to fold, too tired to hold
So take them open, take them as they are
Hands too tired to fold
(Open, open)
(Ngikhathele, Baba)

Take them, take them
Take them as they are
Take them as they are
Tired is not a sin, my child
(Mm, tired is just a road)

Some nights I count the bills, some nights I count the sheep
The sheep are cheaper, so I count them twice
I used to pray in paragraphs, in Sunday-best words
Now all I own is one small word: please
(Please)
(Please, Lord)
(Hear me, Lord)
(Hear me)
(Mm, hear me)
The usher passed the plate along my row
I only had these two to give, so I gave them
The preacher says that faith is standing tall
But I have been on my knees since Tuesday night
(Since Tuesday night)
My mother's hands were never still, they say
Mine just lie here, empty, and they ache

Somewhere in the second hymn
Somebody's alto found my note
She never turned to look at me
She just sang low enough to hold
(Low enough to hold)
I did not sing back, I only breathed
But breathing in a church is almost singing

Lord, I've got hands too tired to fold
Too tired to fold, too tired to hold
So take them open, take them as they are
Hands too tired to fold
(Ngikhathele, Baba)
(Hands too tired to fold)

Ooh... ooh...
(Take them open)
Ooh... ooh...

You never said, "Fold them first"
You never said, "Get strong, then come"
You said, "Come, all who labor"
You said, "Come, all who labor"
(Come, all who labor)
And I labor, and I come
(And I come)
Open hands are still a prayer
Open hands are still a prayer
(And I come)
Open hands are still a prayer
Open hands are still a prayer
(Still a prayer)
Ngiyakholwa, I believe it
(Ngiyakholwa)
Even flat out on the floor
Because the floor is holy ground
When it's the only place you've got

Lord, I've got hands too tired to fold
Too tired to fold, too tired to hold
But You hold them, You hold them as they are
Hands too tired to fold
(Held, held, held)
(Ngikhathele, Baba, and You hold)

Open hands, open hands

Open hands, open hands
(Open hands, open hands)
(Take them as they are)
Take them open, take them as they are
(Take them as they are)
Take them open, take them as they are
(Hold them, hold them)

Hands too tired to fold
Hands too tired to fold
Amen, and I'm too tired to say it twice
(Amen)
Hold them till they sleep
(Amen)
Hold them till they sleep
(Hold them till they sleep)
(Hold them, Lord)
Mm... mm...