First pot home, first pot home
Mother stayed in Lagos
the numbers
- bpm
- 108
- key
- D# minor
- energy
- 0.77
- dance
- 0.93
- valence
- 0.47
- vocal at
- 18.6s
- length
- 2:21
- language
- En
lyrics
Cardboard stacked by the door I cut through onions on a plastic board Basmati in a pot White steam fogging up the window slot Peckham rain on the sill My apron tied, I’m standing still You said, "You good?" from the hall I said, "I’m home," and that was all First pot home, first pot home First pot home, first pot home Salt and oil, I know my own First pot home, first pot home Tin of thyme from the market row Red pepper slice on the blue gas glow Smoked fish waiting by the plate Milo mug and a chipped white spoon by eight Taxi keys in the bowl Damp trainers drying on the floor When the rice starts to sing I feel my mother in everything First pot home, first pot home First pot home, first pot home Salt and oil, I know my own First pot home, first pot home I peeled plantain with the blinds half down Laughing at the mess I found Now the room got my name in it And the table holds my first few minutes First pot home, first pot home First pot home, first pot home Salt and oil, I know my own First pot home, first pot home