Still in the drawer
Plays his father's guitar and says the songs were already inside it
the numbers
- bpm
- 96
- key
- G minor
- energy
- 0.72
- dance
- 0.90
- valence
- 0.49
- vocal at
- 7.1s
- length
- 3:44
- language
- En
lyrics
I found your note behind the Kente cloth Under a file with my old school form March dust on the envelope, brown and soft Two postage stamps gone, but the paper kept warm I read your name by the window seat Where the fan turned slow and the harmattan dry Your ink still held that Ashanti beat Then I folded it up, and I let it lie At six fifteen, the kettle sang My mother called from the yard outside I touched that page with my ringed hand And shut the drawer where your words hide Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer No stamp, no rain No road, no train Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Now the wood has a crack by the brass knob And the key turns tight in the rainy season Your letter sleeps with my old pay stub And a bus receipt from the Kejetia station Sometimes I lift it, then set it down By the blue Bible and the broken comb Your last line bends like a woven crown But I leave it here in our quiet home Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer No stamp, no rain No road, no train Still in the drawer Still in the drawer If I sent it now, would you know my name Would your hands shake when you break that seal? The moon on the latch looks just the same But my heart stays folded under the peel Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer No stamp, no rain No road, no train Still in the drawer Still in the drawer