Don’t touch me
Hands all over the eastern border
You know what?
I think we’re falling
From composure
Hands all over the western culture
Ruffling feathers and turning eagles
Into vultures
Got my arms around my baby brother
Put your hands away
You’re gonna kill your mother
I love her
Hands all over the coastal waters
The crew men thank her
Then lay down their oily blanket
Hands all over the inland forest
In a striking motion trees fall down
Like dying soldiers
Got my arms around my baby brother
Put your hands away
You’re gonna kill your mother
I love her
Hands all over the peasants daughter
She’s our bride
She’ll never make it out alive
Hands all over words I utter
Change them into things you want to
Likes balls of clay
Put your hands away
Gonna kill your mother
And I love her
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