Written by: John Mellencamp and George Green



In the shadows of the smokestacks

Through the black snow that lay on the land

Walked home one winter morning

With my life's savings in my hand

Maryanne, she's fixin' up some breakfast

Got the lights on, on the Christmas tree

Sittin' there lookin' up at an angel

With something dyin' inside of me



Grew up with great expectations

Heard the promise and I knew the plan

They say people get what they deserve

But Lord, sometimes it's much worse than that

Maryanne she's takin' in some laundry

I got a part-time job at a drive-in stand

Oh Lord, what did I do

To deserve these empty hands



Across the cities, across this land

Through the valleys, and across the sand

To many people standin' in line

Too many people with nothin' planned

There's too many people with empty hands



Now Maryanne's been cryin'

Lord knows I love her the best I can

When my pride is bruised and broken

She slips her hand into my empty hands

Without hope, without love, you've got nothing but pain

Just makes a man not give a damn

That's no way for us to live

We've got to fill these empty hands