Soft hands, soft hands
Works the door at a club they refuse to name and writes on the night bus home
the numbers
- bpm
- 136
- key
- F minor
- energy
- 0.76
- dance
- 0.93
- valence
- 0.47
- vocal at
- 8.9s
- length
- 3:20
- language
- Ge
lyrics
Rain on my collar, U-Bahn at four Dog-eared receipt stuck to my palm I dropped my phone by the bakery door You bent down fast, then handed it calm Your coat had flour from a paper bag My hands were shaking in the platform light You said, "You’re good," with a tiny laugh And held the door on the edge of night Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands At Warschauer, the wind cut hard My coffee spilled on a torn blue sleeve You wiped the lid with your library card Then walked me home to the tram stop beam A stranger’s kindness in a plastic cup Warm on my tongue, small as a spark You said, "Take care," and the train pulled up I stood there smiling in the dark Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands I had my bad day folded tight In a cheap black bag and a wrinkled stare You gave me room, then gave me light Just a few seconds, but you were there Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands Soft hands, soft hands