My usual
Was in a band that got famous for one song and left before the second album without explaining
the numbers
- bpm
- 96
- key
- A# minor
- energy
- 0.71
- dance
- 0.94
- valence
- 0.53
- vocal at
- 9.4s
- length
- 2:42
- language
- En
lyrics
You saw me on Bloor in the rain Same black umbrella, cardboard cup in my hand I said it once, just once, in your lane Next time you named it before I could stand One shot, one lid, two sugars, light foam You moved like you’d read the label in my coat At 7:12, by the chipped blue cone You said my order like a note My usual My usual My usual My usual You knew me too fast And I let it pass At Queen and Bathurst, you leaned on the glass Steam on the window, your fingers stayed still You wrote it in marker on a white paper bag Half-caf, oat, extra cinnamon spill One shot, one lid, two sugars, light foam You moved like you’d read the label in my coat At 7:12, by the chipped blue cone You said my order like a note My usual My usual My usual My usual You knew me too fast And I let it pass Now every small thing feels loaded and slow The paper cup sweats in my closed-up hand You learned my mouth before I could say no That’s the kind of touch I don’t understand My usual My usual My usual My usual You knew me too fast And I let it pass