Kind hand, kind hand
Plays a horn that belonged to a man he never met and feels responsible for it
the numbers
- bpm
- 123
- key
- G minor
- energy
- 0.73
- dance
- 0.92
- valence
- 0.45
- vocal at
- 3.9s
- length
- 3:42
- language
- En
lyrics
Cape Town rain on my collar, Grey Street at noon Paper bag in my hand, had no change for the taxi soon Bus window fogged up, I watched the people move by Then you held that blue umbrella, and I felt my chest untie My shoes were full of puddles, my shirt had gone cold You said, “Take this corner,” like a story being told You split your vetkoek in half, with salt on the side I was bent from the weather, you gave me a ride You didn’t ask my name You just made room A small brown hand in the rain Pulled me out my gloom Kind hand, kind hand Kind hand, kind hand You met me where I stand Kind hand, kind hand By the station in the crowd, I was counting my coins A man bumped my shoulder, I was losing my voice You picked up my receipt, and the wind took my coat Then you laughed, “Hold steady,” and slipped me your note At the corner spaza, with the oranges stacked high You bought me a ripe one and you did not ask why That was the sharpest day, but your kindness stayed near Like a clean glass of water in the middle of fear Kind hand, kind hand Kind hand, kind hand You met me where I stand Kind hand, kind hand Now when the clouds come low and the taxis hiss past I remember your shoes, your shirt sleeve rolled back One small act, one warm grin Changed the whole road I was on Kind hand, kind hand Kind hand, kind hand You met me where I stand Kind hand, kind hand