When Hemingway first took me in his hand
I felt a spark and it was magnificent
He picked me up and he began to write
He infused me with words and poetry

He let me tell the stories that he felt
And I was an extension of his being
The joy that filled me then I can't describe
But then the shadow fell
Then the shadow fell

Never again
Never again will I be
In his hand, will I be
In his hand

When Hemingway laid me down to rest
For the last time, I didn't realise
He put me in my box and I grew still
Just waiting, i lay there waiting

For many days I lay there and I thought
He'll return soon, he'll take me out and use me
I knew no evil then, I knew no fear
But then the shadow fell
Then the shadow fell

Never again
Never again will I be
In his hand, will I be
In his hand

I should have seen, I should have known
After all I was a part of him
But in the beauty that he wrote
His own darkness remained a mystery

So when I heard the cracking thunder sound
I really didn't comprehend its meaning
then I discerned the voices and the shouts
And then the shadow fell
Then the shadow fell

Never again
Never again will I be
In his hand
In his hand

Never again
Never again will I be
In his hand, will I be
In his hand