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Humble Hand Lyrics
Artist: The Benjy Davis Project
Album: More Than Local
There was a poor man sleeping silently,
Newspaper wrapped around his cryin' eyes and skinny, stomach tucked.
Can I spare a dime? I'm saving up for another to kill this empty stomach burns (it burns it does, yea).
There was a rich man walking hurriedly, Gucci winter wear wrapped around his
Tag watch and fattened belly tucked. I got spare change but why waste it on another.
An anonymous man getting' funked up.
Spit on a humble hand I am ready, I am ready.
Hung from a ceiling fan I am dirty, I am sweaty.
Come down the road again, humble hand held out to another.
A wind is blowing, pages sell veteran green wrapped
Around his cryin' eyes and poison blood alike.
I got a medal that I won for savin' another.
They don't know what it's like to be funked up.
Spit on a humble hand I am ready, I am ready.
Hung from a ceiling fan I am dirty, I am sweaty.
Come down the road again, humble hand held out to another.
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