Words by chris cornell
Music by kim thayil
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
Your gonna k** your mother, k** 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 peasants daughter
She's our bride
She'll never make it out alive
Hands all over words i utter
Change them into what you want to
Like balls of clay
Put your hands away
Your gonna k** your mother
And i love her