ROMAN CANDLE - For Once My Hands Are Still (Official Audio)

ROMAN CANDLE // FOR ONCE MY HANDS ARE STILL // OUT NOW

New Album 'Unadulterated' Out Now!

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-- FOR ONCE MY HANDS ARE STILL // LYRICS

It was a rainy evening. Not the cold kind but the warm and sticky kind. The sun had just set and I can’t stop thinking about the way my hair is stuck to the back of my neck. There’s a dirt pathway lit by a single porch light covered in moths. The buzz of cicadas drown out each thought and every step. I reach for the door, pausing for a moment before I turn the handle.

I remind myself that I’m here for one reason. I wouldn’t call it revenge. I could call it peace, but that doesn’t feel right either. All I know is that one way or another, within the hour, I will be walking out of this house once and for all with what I want.

The pendulum will swing in my favor this time, even if I have to push it myself.

The door creaks when it opens but no one seems to notice or care. I go inside and instinctively turn to my right. The map of this house will be etched in my mind till the day I die.

There’s a long, narrow hallway. Like the ones you see in scary movies and it’s scared me since I was a kid. I make my way down, tiptoeing on the wood floor. After what feels like an eternity, I pause before reaching the door at the end. I realize that today, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t scared walking down that hallway. I wasn’t scared of the second door to my right and I wasn’t scared of the yellow, cigarette stained walls that surround it. I wasn’t scared of what waited for me inside.

He’s sitting on the bed watching TV with his back to me. His silhouette seems to glow in the dark room, like I’m a hunter in the forest with a night vision scope.

All I can hear are the sounds of war.

The TV is blaring but there’s a stillness to my mind. My hands are shaking but I don’t feel them. My vision goes dark and I don’t think twice before I swing.

It happened in a flash.

I return to myself for a fraction of a second. We’re on the floor next to the bed. My knees pressed hard into his torso.

Who knew that our necks are so fragile?

My only takeaway is that blood is darker in real life than it is on the screen.

It’s darker than my red chucks and it’s darker than the walk up to the porch and it’s darker than the middle of the desert with no fire to keep you or me or him warm.

I stand up off the floor. The sounds of the war on the TV continue. As they do in real life. As does everything else. There is no true moment of grace for anyone or anything.

I turn to leave and for the first time in my life, my hands are still. Bruised, bloody, and probably broken, but still. …For once my hands were still.

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