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letra de the laying on of hands - jack hardy

[intro]
chorus to this song is in french
the, uh, rough translation of it is:
“the spring wind is the healing
i give my soul to the hands of the wind
for these hungry souls this is the laying on of hands”
which is the name of the song

[verse 1]
this time of year of the cruel months
i awake appalled with myself
my fingernails dirty from drinking again
my memory a clouded cell
i watch them place cut flower displays
the ambiance of restaurant windows
the sk!lled hands of deception’s ways
that market hope midst the snow

[verse 2]
and i long to have my nails dirty from digging
instincts displayed by the child
and i long to plow in the early spring mud
factions of my life reconciled
i long to wash my hair in the rain
and let it dry in the wind
and watch each frail blade of grass
before the storm sets in
[chorus]
le vent du printemps
c’est le guérison
je me rends mon âme
aux mains du vent
pour les âmes
qui ont faim
c’est l’imposition des mains

[verse 3]
in those gray plains somewhere east of cleveland
where my forefathers labored their fields
and sent their sons forth into battle
when the bells of victory pealed
and oftentimes they would return
to plow the fields again
but more often they would not return
‘cept in disfigurement

[verse 4]
and i have not the co-rs- hands of my forefathers
mine are soft and small
i’ve memorized each bead of sweat
what few i have known at all
but i have never raised my hand
though not for lack of opportunity
and i have never left my blood
on any reaper’s field
[chorus]
le vent du printemps
c’est le guérison
je me rends mon âme
aux mains du vent
pour les âmes
qui ont faim
c’est l’imposition des mains

[verse 5]
and i have the blood of the norman kings
in my veins for all to see
they conquered england, ireland and france
though they have never conquered me
mais les rois ont les mains longues
and there may come a time
they also had a softer side
they’ve tried so hard to find

[verse 6]
this vast gray and rolling day
when i smell spring upon the wind
caught in that cloudy vaporous haze
seeking ways to let it in
and wind building smelling of earth
this swelling crescendo of man
now the wind encircles me
the laying on of hands
[chorus]
le vent du printemps
c’est le guérison
je me rends mon âme
aux mains du vent
pour les âmes
qui ont faim
c’est l’imposition des mains

- jack hardy

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