Clock me out, clock me out
Vintage dealer by day; every song is built around a synth she refused to sell
the numbers
- bpm
- 123
- key
- D minor
- energy
- 0.74
- dance
- 0.94
- valence
- 0.64
- vocal at
- 8.0s
- length
- 3:10
- language
- It
lyrics
My badge still swings on my belt loop At five-fifty, I count the tiles The copier spits out blue-white proof I fold my forms and hide my smiles The fax machine blinks amber The kettle clicks in the break room One more stamp on the ledger Then I’m gone with my perfume Clock me out, clock me out Clock me out, clock me out Last shift, last shift I’ll miss this place, I know The stairwell smells like floor wax And the guard nods by the glass door My mug has a chipped red rim I leave it on the top shelf floor The printer coughs one final page My coat waits on the chair by the phone I know every scratch on this desk Tonight I take it home alone Clock me out, clock me out Clock me out, clock me out Last shift, last shift I’ll miss this place, I know On Via Torino, rain on the bus stop I hear my keys in my pocket chain Tomorrow I’ll wear clean shoes Tonight I keep the ache Clock me out, clock me out Clock me out, clock me out Last shift, last shift I’ll miss this place, I know