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Rich Hands (pumpkin lover)
by
Porches
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Lyrics
So, pumpkin lover Winter creeps I cannot seem to find you anywhere my palms seem to land And those rich jade and golden-red polish hands While the women bundle up But they don't seem fit Oh I'm certain they are Kindly would love me And treat me nice But I don't wanna hold their hand And I don't want them in the bed I don't want them in their beds I just want my best friend So, call me sick But what's a boy supposed to do when he's thick-headed And he only dreams in green And red And I want to hold your hand And I want you in the bed And I want you in my bed I just want my best friend Call your papa on the phone Like father like son like dog like bone I don't know if I'll leave this home Call your papa on the phone Like father like son like dog like bone I don't know if I'll leave this home
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