One hand to give, one hand to take
A body to love, one to awake
A heart of abundance, the heart of a flower
One heart to leave, within the hour

That is the trade
The space that we give for what takes shape
That is the trade

A handful of words, these are my tools
I'll drive for miles, I'll be the fool
An empty sky, a long stretch of road
Are just as familiar as any home

That is the trade
The distance we go for the connection we make
That is the trade

That is the trade
What we let go of for the things that stay
That is the trade

©1998 Threshold Music/BMI