I am the oldest of five
Which is my ticket to act younger than my current age
So that I never lose sight
Of the youth like fervor that will forever pump
Through my veins even while rocking in rocking chairs
I am the oldest of five
Which my ticket to act younger than my current age
So that means playing sneak behind your unaware sister and cover her eyes is okay
That is until everytime right away she knows that its you
So you ask her through laughs
“What? How did you know?”
And she responds with the same joy and says,
“Its because you’re the only one of us who has woman hands.”
Woman hands…
I assume that means hands that belong to a woman but I apologize if the girlish grin and one dimple reflection confuses me
Because well woman hands must belong to a woman
And that just cant be me
Because woman hands belong to those whose days consist of nothing for themselves
But every hour dedicated to every one else
Woman hands have held and let go of children as the youth of their fingertips leave with them
And woman hands have experienced first off what it means to love
What it means to feel two lives in sync as one
Woman hands have held onto dreams that were stronger than her clutch
No, see woman hands they cant be mind
That’s way too much
Because woman hands have wiped away more tears of others and have placed them neatly in treasure boxes next to her collected memories
Woman hands know a strength that reaches past gender and what a heavy burden really means because they’ve been weighed down by so many times
And so I state that Woman hands cant possibly belong to a twenty year old who still lives road trips for no reason
And the smell of cookies baked into early mornings that still feel like night
Memories being rewound and woven into blankets in quiet evenings
Woman hands are given by experience
Women hands are been there seen that
Lived there ate that
Cried then over that
Woman hands are soft like mothers
Strong like the paw of a lioness
And come in shades of color that make up the one they belong to
Woman hands are a privilege in which I guess I’ve been given
So come on woman hands, we’ve still got some livin’
Which is my ticket to act younger than my current age
So that I never lose sight
Of the youth like fervor that will forever pump
Through my veins even while rocking in rocking chairs
I am the oldest of five
Which my ticket to act younger than my current age
So that means playing sneak behind your unaware sister and cover her eyes is okay
That is until everytime right away she knows that its you
So you ask her through laughs
“What? How did you know?”
And she responds with the same joy and says,
“Its because you’re the only one of us who has woman hands.”
Woman hands…
I assume that means hands that belong to a woman but I apologize if the girlish grin and one dimple reflection confuses me
Because well woman hands must belong to a woman
And that just cant be me
Because woman hands belong to those whose days consist of nothing for themselves
But every hour dedicated to every one else
Woman hands have held and let go of children as the youth of their fingertips leave with them
And woman hands have experienced first off what it means to love
What it means to feel two lives in sync as one
Woman hands have held onto dreams that were stronger than her clutch
No, see woman hands they cant be mind
That’s way too much
Because woman hands have wiped away more tears of others and have placed them neatly in treasure boxes next to her collected memories
Woman hands know a strength that reaches past gender and what a heavy burden really means because they’ve been weighed down by so many times
And so I state that Woman hands cant possibly belong to a twenty year old who still lives road trips for no reason
And the smell of cookies baked into early mornings that still feel like night
Memories being rewound and woven into blankets in quiet evenings
Woman hands are given by experience
Women hands are been there seen that
Lived there ate that
Cried then over that
Woman hands are soft like mothers
Strong like the paw of a lioness
And come in shades of color that make up the one they belong to
Woman hands are a privilege in which I guess I’ve been given
So come on woman hands, we’ve still got some livin’
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