The Hand Trembler Lyrics - Tourniquet

Is the God that I worship like an eight ball that says yes maybe or no? 

Or like a ouija board that points the direction to go? 

A family looks on forlorn and sad - the outcome will determine faithful or mad 

Temperature soars to 107 - passing hands not yet ready for heaven 

He sees himself floating somewhere overhead 

A haunting apparition high above his bed 

It's me, I think, but I seem to resemble the soul of a ghoul 

The Hand Trembler walks out not a word did he say 

Is his power for real though he failed today? 

The family has scorned him - Hand Trembler denied. 

The life of their son snuffed out as they cried 

You left us in agony - your power is fake 

Though we trusted in you, this answer we'll not take 

Do you have the faith to let God be God - that is the question 

Not a question of outcome but a question of trust 

For he is truly God and we are but dust 

There are things in this life we can never explain 

On the wicked and the righteous fall sunshine and rain 

I am not God, though at times I have tried 

"You don't need him" - the deceiver has lied