Made it home
Three sisters, one of whom is not actually a sister, and nobody will say which
the numbers
- bpm
- 123
- key
- G minor
- energy
- 0.70
- dance
- 0.96
- valence
- 0.53
- vocal at
- 5.0s
- length
- 1:46
- language
- En
lyrics
Two forty on Lygon, boots full of rain Mascara in my sleeve, cheap gin in my brain You slammed the taxi door, left me there to shake I kicked a milk crate hard by the noodle shop gate Down the tram stop stairs, my knees nearly fold Coin in my palm, and my lip's gone cold Shopfront glass spits back a face I don't know I keep my head down, I keep moving slow Made it home Made it home Made it home Made it home Keys in my fist, and my jaw still sore Errol Street bin reeks, smashed chips on the ground A boy in a footy jumper keeps his eyes down My heel cuts out by a cracked chapel door I laugh at the bruise, then I want nothing more Made it home Made it home Made it home Made it home The deadbolt bites, and I kick my shoes off Sink full of cans, red rings on the bench Phone face-up, five missed calls, one text I rip out the card with your name in the seam Then I spit in the mirror and wash off the dream Made it home Made it home Made it home Made it home Morning can come, I survived your mess