Same old seats
Sound engineer by trade who mixes for the physical feeling first and the tune second
the numbers
- bpm
- 117
- key
- F minor
- energy
- 0.74
- dance
- 0.92
- valence
- 0.60
- vocal at
- 0.1s
- length
- 3:40
- language
- En
lyrics
We met by the chip shop queue at eight Your coat still smelled like rain and chips You laughed at my shoes, said I’m still late Same cracked phone case, same chipped lips Your mate rolled in with a Tesco bag Three cans cold, one broken zip You tapped the bench with a bus pass tag Still talking like we never split Same bench, same stain, same cheap song Same glance, same grin, same night gone wrong No new scars, no new skin Just the same old cut we’re sat in Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats By the canal, your trainers white Moss on the wall and a dented bin You told the same story from Friday night Same punchline, same old grin The kebab van steamed by Broadmead Road Paper on your knees, salt on your lip You said “we’re fine,” but your eyes told slow Nothing moved, not one inch Same bench, same stain, same cheap song Same glance, same grin, same night gone wrong No new scars, no new skin Just the same old cut we’re sat in Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Now the bus pulls up with the doors half-stuck Your laugh hits hard, then fades away I wanted change, I wanted luck But you’re still you in the same old grey Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats Same old seats