Peter held his masterpiece in all six of his hands

Reactions there were natural but never quite as grand and

Hands held the breakfast food

Hands held it tight

Hands make it understood

Hands throughout the night

Sara was a working girl, she traveled through the land

She made a mini-fortune and she held it in her hands and

Hands are a euphemism

Hands hold it tight

Hands clap a simple rhythm

Hands throughout the night

And hands

Gary lost his Sunday paper somewhere in the sand

The only proof of ownership was ink left on his hands and

Hands count the numbers out

Hands hold it tight

Hands make the natives shout

Hands throughout the night

And

I've got a big gun, it weighs at least a ton

I'm not the only one who holds it in his hands