Not her kind, not her kind
Drove trucks for eleven years and writes like someone with time to think and no radio
the numbers
- bpm
- 172
- key
- D major
- energy
- 0.70
- dance
- 0.91
- valence
- 0.48
- vocal at
- 5.4s
- length
- 3:23
- language
- En
lyrics
She set a pie on the sill by the screen Then eyed your boots like she’d seen a thief Her blue mason jar caught the sunlight clean She said, "Boy, I know what I believe" Grandma crossed her arms by the stove At six-fifteen, she cut her eyes You brought a tie and a clean-cut smile She still knew how to read your lies Not her kind, not her kind Not her kind, not her kind She keeps that black rocker by the lamp Not her kind, not her kind Your truck sat hot in the gravel drive Plate half-bent, door dented red She took one look at your easy grin And set fresh beans out, then said what she said Grandma crossed her arms by the stove At six-fifteen, she cut her eyes You brought a tie and a clean-cut smile She still knew how to read your lies Not her kind, not her kind Not her kind, not her kind She keeps that black rocker by the lamp Not her kind, not her kind At church on Sunday, third-row seat She folded her hands, stared straight ahead You held that paper cup of weak black coffee She hummed low, then shook her head Not her kind, not her kind Not her kind, not her kind She keeps that black rocker by the lamp Not her kind, not her kind