Songwriters: Mellencamp, John / Green, George Michael Written by: John Mellencamp and George Green
In the shadows of the smokestacks Through the black snow that lay on the land Walked home one winter morning With my life's savings in my hand Maryanne, she's fixin' up some breakfast Got the lights on, on the Christmas tree Sittin' there lookin' up at an angel With something dyin' inside of me
Grew up with great expectations Heard the promise and I knew the plan They say people get what they deserve But Lord, sometimes it's much worse than that Maryanne she's takin' in some laundry I got a part-time job at a drive-in stand Oh Lord, what did I do To deserve these empty hands
Across the cities, across this land Through the valleys, and across the sand To many people standin' in line Too many people with nothin' planned There's too many people with empty hands
Now Maryanne's been cryin' Lord knows I love her the best I can When my pride is bruised and broken She slips her hand into my empty hands Without hope, without love, you've got nothing but pain Just makes a man not give a damn That's no way for us to live We've got to fill these empty hands