At the bus stop, we changed shape
Formed in a laundrette, named after a pub that closed before they were born
the numbers
- bpm
- 136
- key
- E minor
- energy
- 0.71
- dance
- 0.96
- valence
- 0.55
- vocal at
- 7.3s
- length
- 3:23
- language
- En
lyrics
Two tickets stuck in your palm Greyhound splashed on your sleeve You laughed when the rain hit the glass I stared at your wet red knee You tapped the timetable board Said, “Three minutes, maybe four” Your thumb on the cigarette tear Mine on the bus stop floor The number seven rolled past Hissing on the kerb You leaned in to read my mouth And I forgot the words Not mates, not mates, not mates, not mates At the bus stop, we changed shape Not mates, not mates, not mates, not mates You looked at me like that Your scarf hung off the rail Blue wool, damp at the ends You brushed a crumb from my coat Like you knew where I’d been The driver yawned by the wheel Your hand stayed on my wrist One second, we were laughing Next second, this The doors breathed out heat The mirrors caught your face You said, “Are you getting on?” And I stayed in place Not mates, not mates, not mates, not mates At the bus stop, we changed shape Not mates, not mates, not mates, not mates You looked at me like that Plastic seat, cold metal bar Your phone lit up, then died We stood where the rain had dried In a stripe by your side Not mates, not mates, not mates, not mates At the bus stop, we changed shape Not mates, not mates, not mates, not mates You looked at me like that