Closer
You’re getting too close with the comfort 
I need it, how bout’ you come over for me 
I hope you’re here when I’m still sober 
Connect like Dover
 
Hold her
I’m craving palms like my own, sir 
I don’t need jagged edged answers from you 
Or silly boys to tell me what to do 
 
It’s getting colder
I hope you’re here when I get older 
If I’m not frozen from the corners of time in Ibiza 
A higher power wasn’t meant for me 

Creases on your palms separate like the channels 
If they lead me to France whatever would I know 
I need you here now sailing a strait towards Barcelona 
Your finger patterns to beats, time means so much to me 

Creases on your palms separate like the channels 
If they lead me to France whatever would I know 
I need you here now sailing a strait towards Barcelona 
Your finger patterns to beats, time means so much to me

Metacarpus

Metacarpus (prod. mill creek)

im a little nuts ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪
HALF FULL out NOW
DM for features on social media, email, or message me on here (I suck at checking messages on here)
email: schmittysamichs@gmail.com

[...] In Oregon I saw thousands of bushels of apples rotting in the orchards. Only absolutely flawless apples were still saleable, at from 40 to 50 cents a box containing 200 apples. At the same time, there are millions of children who, on account of the poverty of their parents, will not eat one apple this winter. (Oscar Ameringer, Speaking in the House of Representatives, 1932)

Pronouns: xey/xem/xeir (they/them/their okay too) 
Singer/songwriter who uses music to process emotion and connect with the world 💛🎶

Metacarpus (prod. mill creek)

pnut