Hands all over the Eastern border You know what? I think we're falling From composure Hands all over Western culture Ruffling feathers and turning eagles into vultures
Got my arms around baby brother Put your hands away You're gonna kill your mother, kill your mother And I love her
Hands all over the coastal waters The crew men thank her Then lay down their oily blanket Hands all over the inland forest In a striking motion trees fall down Like dying soldiers
Hands all over the peasant's daughter She's our bride She'll never make it out alive Hands all over the words I utter Change them into what you want to Like balls of clay Put your hands away You're gonna kill your mother And I love her