First pot, first home

the numbers

bpm

96

key

G minor

energy

0.72

dance

0.92

valence

0.48

vocal at

2.9s

length

2:49

language

Sp

lyrics

Four boxes by the door, still taped up tight

San Antonio plates in a thrift-store light

I set a dented pan down on the burner grate

Took the last of my cash, called that a date

I rinsed one little rice cup in the sink

Cut up two tomatoes, stopped to think

That little flat was quiet as a held breath

Then oil hit the pan and I found myself

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

Salt on my wrist, and I’m good all night

Aluminum spoon, scratched on the blue bowl

H-E-B bag on the chair, doing patrol

I ate by the window, boots still on the tile

Watched my own hands work, and I smiled a while

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

Salt on my wrist, and I’m good all night

Mama sent a text, said, “Baby, you made it”

I stirred one more time, then I plated

No borrowed table, no one telling me no

Just me and that steam in the little flat I chose

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

First pot, first home

Salt on my wrist, and I’m good all night