Amid the whirlwind of uprooted lives and stolen sunsets, Nick Jonas captures that fragile magic of new beginnings in “Handprints,” a tender ode to the family he’s building brick by brick in the concrete jungle. It’s the kind of song that sneaks up on you like a quiet cab ride through Manhattan at dusk, where the skyline blurs into memories of what you’ve left behind and the warmth of what’s just ahead. Drawing from his own pivot to New York—rushed by the devastating L.A. fires of early 2025 that forced him, Priyanka, and little Malti into an unexpected chapter—Jonas weaves domestic bliss with a Broadway actor’s poise, turning everyday rituals into poetry. For fans chasing Handprints lyrics by Nick Jonas, it’s a snapshot of resilience, where handprints aren’t just smudges on glass but indelible marks on the heart.
| Lead Vocals | Nick Jonas |
| Songwriter | Nick Jonas |
| Music Producer | [TBA] |
| Label | Universal Music Group |
| Release Date | February 6, 2026 |
| Song Language | English |
| Copyright © | Republic Records |
| Phonographic Copyright ℗ | Republic Records |
Lyrics of Handprints by Nick Jonas
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About “Handprints by Nick Jonas”
Nick Jonas etches fleeting joys into eternity with “Handprints,” a soul-stirring ballad that marries pop’s gleam with folk’s intimate ache—gentle, glowing, and gone too soon.
Rooted in indie-pop introspection with a Broadway sheen, “Handprints” hums with acoustic strums and subtle swells, evoking the hush of a family settling into unfamiliar rhythms. The theme? Cherishing the ephemeral—secret handshakes with doormen, hurried walks to the park, the ache of knowing winter’s chill will test your resolve. Mood-wise, it’s wistful yet defiant, like holding onto summer’s last gasp while whispering pleas to the turning leaves. Production, helmed by Jonas himself alongside a tight-knit crew, keeps it organic: fingerpicked guitars layering over his velvet falsetto, no overproduced gloss, just space for the story to breathe.
As the emotional anchor of Sunday Best, his fourth solo outing set for full release on February 6, 2026, via Republic Records, “Handprints” embodies the album’s core ethos: Sundays as sacred pauses in life’s rush, a mosaic of love letters to fatherhood, partnership, and reinvention. Jonas envisioned it as a “sonic scrapbook,” blending confessional tracks with orchestral flourishes inspired by his The Last Five Years run—think vulnerable vignettes like “Echoes in the Aisle” rubbing shoulders with upbeat reflections on Malti’s mischief. It’s his most personal pivot yet, trading Jonas Brothers arena anthems for something smaller, sharper, and profoundly lived-in, with guest spots from Priyanka’s subtle harmonies teasing a duet down the line.
Teased via Instagram broadcasts and a haunting snippet that dropped mid-January, the track’s pre-release buzz hit fever pitch last week, syncing perfectly with Spotify’s pre-save campaign that’s already locked in over 500,000 holds. No flashy collabs here—it’s Jonas stripped bare, though early whispers point to a visualizer directed by the family, capturing those NYC handprint moments in soft-focus glory. Dropping as the lead single amid his Broadway hiatus, it arrives just as Sunday Best gears up for Valentine’s Day dominance, with vinyl bundles and intimate listening parties in the works.
Now 33 and thriving in dual lanes—pop heartthrob turned stage stalwart and devoted dad—Jonas is in full bloom, channeling the chaos of 2025’s wildfires and relocations into art that feels like exhale. “Handprints” marks a maturation in his solo arc, evolving from Spaceman’s cosmic flirtations to grounded anthems of legacy, slotting seamlessly beside standouts like “Jealous” and “Levels” as a testament to his chameleon gift. In a discography that’s danced between boy-band bops and solo sulks, this one’s a quiet revolution: proof that Jonas’s voice, once a spark, now ignites hearths. It’s why he endures—turning personal tempests into universal shelters, reminding us that the best stories are the ones we live messy and leave marked.
Beyond the lyrics, “Handprints” lingers in its plea to “slow down time,” a father’s gentle bargain with the calendar that hits harder knowing the Jonas-Chopras’ real-life scramble. As Sunday Best unfolds, expect it to redefine his catalog, bridging the gap between fan-favorite hooks and the hushed confessions of adulthood. In an era of fleeting TikTok trends, Jonas bets on the lasting press of a palm.
