I keep your voice
Two months a year the sun does not rise where she lives
the numbers
- bpm
- 129
- key
- C minor
- energy
- 0.72
- dance
- 0.94
- valence
- 0.42
- vocal at
- 2.8s
- length
- 3:59
- language
- No
lyrics
Your voicemail sits on my phone By the blue bowl near the sink At six-fifteen, the kettle groans I press play and let it sink The window wears a skin of frost My wool sleeves brush the chair You said the last bus nearly crossed The harbor road was bare I save it where the battery sleeps Past my sister's number, past the maps Your voice in the small machine Like rain in the crab-apple sap I keep your voice I keep your voice I keep your voice I keep your voice On the screen, your name stays bright In the black case, by the light The January milk goes thin In the red door of the fridge I fold your note with the grocery list And set it by the bridge Your breath cuts through the tiny speaker Like cloth on a windowpane I answer once to an empty room Then save you back again I keep your voice I keep your voice I keep your voice I keep your voice On the screen, your name stays bright In the black case, by the light When the thaw comes down the hill And the salt turns white on the boots I'll still know that short first ring And the click before your truth I keep your voice I keep your voice I keep your voice I keep your voice On the screen, your name stays bright In the black case, by the light