Can’t delete it
Sings at funerals and weddings, often the same week
the numbers
- bpm
- 136
- key
- G major
- energy
- 0.70
- dance
- 0.96
- valence
- 0.54
- vocal at
- 6.4s
- length
- 3:02
- language
- En
lyrics
At the back of the drawer, under tax slips and keys, There’s a print from Kilronan, curled soft at the seams. Your thumb on the bench and the rain on your sleeve, I saved it in daylight, but I cannot believe. I moved it to a shoebox, I hid it from view, But the paper keeps breathing the colour of you. At six on the kettle, I stand by the sink, One glance would undo me, and I know what I’d think. Can’t delete it Can’t delete it Can’t delete it Can’t delete it In a tin by the pills and the screwdrivers, there, It lies with the tickets from Westport in there. I turned it face-down by the sink after tea, Still your coat by the harbour is looking at me. I could tear up the corners, I could burn out the frame, But the stain on my fingers would carry your name. So I leave it in silence, where the blue shadows creep, Half one in the morning, and I’m wide enough to weep. Can’t delete it Can’t delete it Can’t delete it Can’t delete it If I take it to Galway and drop it in tide, It comes back in my pocket like it never had died. So I stand at the window with the curtains drawn thin, And I let the old paper keep holding your skin. Can’t delete it Can’t delete it Can’t delete it Can’t delete it