your hands on wet lawns
your hands covered in grass
your hands printed into soil
my hands pressed against the glass

you're always talking about laundry
even though your clothes smell so good
i just want to be near you
and you know i would if i could

but please, stay calm
i know you'll adapt, eventually

your hands turned yellow
your hands turned blue
your hands; the crickets
yeah, they're always sing to you

and sometimes when i'm still awake
i listen to the wind in the trees
sitting out on my front porch
stuttering and shaking in the knees

but please, stay calm
i know i'll adapt, eventually

i know we'll adapt, eventually