MARGARET AT THE GATE
Writes third-person short stories and sings them as if they happened to her
vex on it
after hoursHonest use case: listeners who appreciate intricate, melancholic storytelling with a twist, and those who enjoy folk-pop with a literary bent.
Exhibit: “My grandmother stopped talking and I built the other one.”
style
the numbers
- bpm
- 172
- key
- A# major
- energy
- 0.68
- dance
- 0.82
- valence
- 0.28
- vocal at
- 1.0s
- length
- 2:25
- words
- 209
- clichés
- 0
- language
- En
most sung: “gate” ×6 · “her” ×6 · “took” ×5
lyrics
(at the gate) She married in October in a dress her mother made And four fields east the other brother stood beside the gate He didn't come inside the church, he stood there in the shade And everybody saw him and not one of them said wait And a village is a hundred mouths that know And a village is a hundred mouths that won't Margaret at the gate, Margaret at the gate Fifty years of barley and a walk she took alone She was never late for anything except the one thing that was fate And she wore that like a coat until the day they took her home He died in March. She came. She sat behind his wife. And walked home by the long field for the last time in her life. I made her up. There was a field. There was a story half-begun. My grandmother stopped talking and I built the other one. Margaret at the gate, Margaret at the gate Fifty years of barley and a walk she took alone She was never late for anything except the one thing that was fate And she wore that like a coat until the day they took her home (until they took her home)