Woven Hands Songtext
von A Sense of Purpose

We′ve been pacing in circles,
As if the steps could bring us full circle
Tracing the spaces we took our first steps in

We've cleared our homes of mirrors,
Feeding our vanities
We′re calamities claiming casualties
Self-afflicting tragedies

Worries so small, confined to our own palms
Inner imperfections, unnoted in our reflections

This place becomes our black mark
Woven hands, we wander into the dark
Lost in the process of finding progress
We are lost


We've cleared our homes of mirrors,
Feeding our vanities
We're calamities claiming casualties
Self-afflicting tragedies

Worries so small, confined to our own palms
Inner imperfections, unnoted in our reflections
Affliction rests on these troubled faces
Complacency creates vacancies

Our hands never intended to bear these burdens
(Inactivity breeding misery, complacency creating vacancies)
Our hands never intended to bear these burdens
(We′ve been pacing in circles,
As if the steps could bring us full circle)

Worries so small, confined to our own palms
Inner imperfections, never noted in our reflections
Affliction rests on these troubled faces
Complacency creates vacancies

Leaving a vacancy in me