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