The year before my dad died he told me that if he'd known he was going to live this long he would have taken better care of his body. He was a 75-year-old lifelong smoker and drinker.

That conversation informed the lyrics of today's song, which is from the perspective of an old man who finds that even his own hands are failing him. Sadge. #hornsection #rock #midtempo #aging

Verse 1

I was a rugged individual, a self-made man

Nothing brings you back to earth like a nurse and bedpan

Now I’ve fallen and I can’t get well

I hate to say it but I need a little help

Chorus

I can’t trust it

I can’t trust my own hands

I don’t trust it

I won’t trust my own hands again

Verse 2

The right don’t know what the left hand do

You can count on this it is up to no goo

The hand cut off the nose just to spite the face

Even the hand of god’s getting old these days

Chorus

I can’t trust it

I can’t trust my own hands

I don’t trust it

I won’t trust my own hands again