I kept the words
Two months a year the sun does not rise where she lives
the numbers
- bpm
- 129
- key
- C minor
- energy
- 0.71
- dance
- 0.93
- valence
- 0.41
- vocal at
- 3.2s
- length
- 3:47
- language
- No
lyrics
I wrote your name on a paper sack By the kitchen clock at half past eight Three winters of words laid out in a stack Then I washed my cup and let it wait The window held frost on its ribbed white pane Your boots by the door, still crusted with sand I practiced the line till it felt like rain But I kept both hands inside my coat again At the station bench, I knew the first breath I knew where your eyes would go But the snow in my throat went hard as death And the words stayed low I kept the words I kept the words I kept the words I kept the words Under the spoon, under the plate Under the salt by the sink I kept the words I kept the words Till morning turned pink At the fish market, past the crates of cod I heard my own mouth near your face I had the whole map, every turn marked odd But I let the moment lose its place On the bus back home with the wet wool smell And a ticket bent in my hand I held that fight like a cracked blue shell Too small to break, too cold to stand I kept the words I kept the words I kept the words I kept the words Under the spoon, under the plate Under the salt by the sink I kept the words I kept the words Till morning turned pink Now the teacup rings on the pine table grain And the radio sleeps in the next room I fold the week into a linen plain And lay that argument in bloom I kept the words I kept the words I kept the words I kept the words Under the spoon, under the plate Under the salt by the sink I kept the words I kept the words Till morning turned pink