I call it that, I call it that
Vintage dealer by day; every song is built around a synth she refused to sell
the numbers
- bpm
- 129
- key
- D minor
- energy
- 0.71
- dance
- 0.95
- valence
- 0.61
- vocal at
- 8.9s
- length
- 3:28
- language
- It
lyrics
On the Formica, your blue pen leaves a mark I say your little word by the pay phone glow At the bar by Porta Romana, it clicks in the dark I use it on my tongue, and I let it show Now the word comes first, before I even think Over my tea spoon, I hear it in my head On the kitchen tile, it lands in one small blink I catch myself smiling at what you said I call it that, I call it that I call it that, I call it that You gave me one word, now it won't come back I call it that, I call it that In my glove box, there’s your ticket stub and dust I said the word to Marta, and she laughed with me At seven forty, on the tram, it felt like trust Your little word is in my bag, where it should be Now the word comes first, before I even think Over my tea spoon, I hear it in my head On the kitchen tile, it lands in one small blink I catch myself smiling at what you said I call it that, I call it that I call it that, I call it that You gave me one word, now it won't come back I call it that, I call it that In the mirror, I rehearse it under my breath Gold hoop earrings, red nails, same old sign If you hear me now, you’ll know what I kept Your word is mine, and it fits just fine I call it that, I call it that I call it that, I call it that You gave me one word, now it won't come back I call it that, I call it that