Idle Hands

                                  With my idle hands there's nothing I can't do

But be the Devil?s plaything baby and know that I've been used

Your lips are cold, they suffer me

They drag me under baby into your suffering



Let your hands do what they will do

Stand inside, make your maker?s move

And your eyes don't look the same

They seem enervated, in denial

Cast like stones like you been rode for miles

Rode for miles



My eyes have seen, they have been shown

This is an occupation to stand alone

I suffer you, you suffer me

We are the Devil?s plaything into this reckoning



Let your hands do what they will do

Stand inside, make your maker?s move

And your eyes don't look the same

They seem enervated, in denial

Cast like stones like you been rode for miles

Rode for miles