In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Hands untied speak my mind
I had so much to say
For longest time the words weren't mine
I died an empty slave
I lost my sense of touch (I lost my sense of me)
And I was drunk with puke (shrunk every time I breathed)
My hands told wasted time (my time was not complete)
I killed time swatting flies (while roaming landfill stink)
I lost my sense of sight ('cause through my hands I see)
And what I knew wasn't true (the dummy wasn't me)
I took my coat of pins (and turned it inside out)
I rid my bones of skin (and rid myself of sound)
Hands, tired hands, dirty pants
The cardhouse man fell down
Now silence is peace - speaks to me
What once was said by sound
I lost my sense of touch (I lost my sense of me)
And I was drunk with puke (shrunk every time I breathed)
My hands told wasted time (my time was not complete)
I killed time swatting flies (while roaming landfill stink)
I lost my sense of sight ('cause through my hands I see)
And what I knew wasn't true (the dummy wasn't me)
I took my coat of pins (and turned it inside out)
I rid my bones of skin (and rid myself of sound)
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I had so much to say
For longest time the words weren't mine
I died an empty slave
I lost my sense of touch (I lost my sense of me)
And I was drunk with puke (shrunk every time I breathed)
My hands told wasted time (my time was not complete)
I killed time swatting flies (while roaming landfill stink)
I lost my sense of sight ('cause through my hands I see)
And what I knew wasn't true (the dummy wasn't me)
I took my coat of pins (and turned it inside out)
I rid my bones of skin (and rid myself of sound)
Hands, tired hands, dirty pants
The cardhouse man fell down
Now silence is peace - speaks to me
What once was said by sound
I lost my sense of touch (I lost my sense of me)
And I was drunk with puke (shrunk every time I breathed)
My hands told wasted time (my time was not complete)
I killed time swatting flies (while roaming landfill stink)
I lost my sense of sight ('cause through my hands I see)
And what I knew wasn't true (the dummy wasn't me)
I took my coat of pins (and turned it inside out)
I rid my bones of skin (and rid myself of sound)
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
I'm free
I'm remembering who I am
My hands can feel again...
Lyrics submitted by Elimination
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“I overthink and have trouble sleepin’ / All purpose gone and don’t have a reason / And there’s no doctor to stop this bleedin’ / So I left home and jumped in the deep end,” Ed Sheeran sings in verse one. He continues by adding that this person is feeling the weight of having disappointed his father and doesn’t have any friends to rely on in this difficult moment. In the second verse, Ed sings about the role of grief in his friend’s plight and his dwindling faith in prayer. “Saturday night is givin’ me a reason to rely on the strobe lights / The lifeline of a promise in a shot glass, and I’ll take that / If you’re givin’ out love from a plastic bag,” Ed sings on the chorus, as his friend turns to new vices in hopes of feeling better.
"The title song Hands came to me while I was driving home from the studio the night before leaving to tour France (May 97). I never wanted to tour in support of my solo records - I didn’t feel like they were really me, and I wasn’t going to pretend or misrepresent. I got no fulfillment from music anymore - my identity was censored and diluted for so long that I was numb. But by recording this CD I remembered what music was - it was my medicine. My peace. Kept me sane. And the freedom to be myself brought back the spirituality I had lost. I dedicated this album to it. By the time I got home from the drive, the entire song was written in my head - I always write songs in my head first. I played the opening guitar riff while scatting with a kazoo." - Ron thal