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On My Hand

Lydia Cole

If I put me in a bowl and put the bowl in a hole
Well, then no-one should know where I am
But, my love, here's the thing: You do not honestly think
That I should cover or shrink who I am

And love will find a way
Baby, our love will find a way

If I put you on a train I know I'll see you again
Your love is like an ink stain on my hand
And when you come back again, we will pick up the pen
And we will write till the end, do you understand?
Yeah, we will read till the end, do you understand?

And love will find a way
Baby, our love will find a way
And I will find a way

If I put you on a bus I'm not afraid we'll lose us
Your love is like an ink stain on my hand