I can't remember
Each time, it slips right through my fingers
The eyes and faces of my brothers
That never made it back home to their mothers
And all I remember
Of 1943, December, is Sullivan and I behind the line
We gathered the flock to hold a mass with the Father
And the smoke led the way back to death and flames
My disbelief in what laid before me
Bombed down with no warning, no hope
No hands to hold, no hands to pray for me
No hands to hold, no hands to pray
No hands to hold, no hands to pray
No hands to hold, no hands to pray
No hands to hold
And I remember
The prayers my mother's mother taught her
And though I am no believer
I would be dead with my fellow men if not for the preacher
No hands to pray
If I should die before, before I wake
I pray the lord for my soul, my soul to take
No hands to hold, no hands to pray
No hands to hold, no hands to pray for me
No hands to fold, no hands to pray
No hands to hold, no hands to pray for me
No hands to fold, no hands to pray
No hands to hold, no hands to pray for me
This lyric was posted anonymously. Not yet confirmed by Book of Metal.
