These Hands, His Echo

Caught my reflection in the window glass

Coffee in my hand, just like times long past

Tracing calloused lines in the morning light

Stories living deep within those knuckles tight

Every wrinkle, every scar

A map to who we are

I never thought I'd see

His legacy in me

Oh, these hands—they look just like my father's

Familiar grooves I used to wonder over

In every gesture, he lingers closer

With every motion, our lives entwine

These hands, his echo, through space and time

He’d fix old cars under summer sun

Grease on his nails when the day was done

Now I build my world with the same worn grip

Borrowed strength hidden in my fingertips

Every wrinkle, every scar

A map to who we are

I never thought I'd see

His legacy in me

Oh, these hands—they look just like my father's

Familiar grooves I used to wonder over

In every gesture, he lingers closer

With every motion, our lives entwine

These hands, his echo, through space and time

Time’s a melody across our skin

Passing down where we end and they begin

In the way I comfort, in the way I strive

His memory moves and keeps me alive

Oh, these hands—they look just like my father's

Familiar grooves I used to wonder over

In every gesture, he lingers closer

With every motion, our lives entwine

These hands, his echo, through space and timeNight falls and shadows start to play

But his echo in me won’t fade away