Hold the line, hold the line
Drove trucks for eleven years and writes like someone with time to think and no radio
the numbers
- bpm
- 172
- key
- A# major
- energy
- 0.70
- dance
- 0.95
- valence
- 0.37
- vocal at
- 5.8s
- length
- 3:01
- language
- En
lyrics
You clocked me in at 7:12 While I fixed that leak by the break room sink You slid my apron on the hook by the door And kept your mouth shut at the coffee machine brink I saw your note by the timecard stack Three words scratched on a paper cup lid You tipped your chin when the boss walked back Then you acted like nothing happened, kid Hold the line, hold the line Hold the line, hold the line You covered mine and never said a thing Hold the line, hold the line At lunch you split your sandwich in two Then passed me fries from a red plastic tray You let that rush order hit your desk While I ducked out the back and got away I heard my name in the loading bay But your boots kept pace with the floor You took that blame and tucked it away Like a folded check in a denim drawer Hold the line, hold the line Hold the line, hold the line You covered mine and never said a thing Hold the line, hold the line Now it's Friday and the doors are down Your truck's got mud on the passenger side I owe you more than a shake of the hand More than the words I keep inside Hold the line, hold the line Hold the line, hold the line You covered mine and never said a thing Hold the line, hold the line