Still in the drawer
From the northeast, moved to the capital, and plays village music at 3am club sets
the numbers
- bpm
- 123
- key
- A# minor
- energy
- 0.73
- dance
- 0.94
- valence
- 0.46
- vocal at
- 2.5s
- length
- 3:36
- language
- Th
lyrics
At seven-fifteen, the fan cut slow Blue ink dried hard on the page below Your name sat neat by the coffee ring I folded the note with a silver string The drawer sticks shut by the bedframe seam Under train tickets and a faded receipt I wrote, then waited by the phone all night By morning, the corner had lost its light I keep that page with the grocery list Beside one sock and a cracked wrist twist If I pull it out, it still feels true Like the room held its breath for you Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer At Bang Sue, I watched the platform bend Salt on my shirt from the bus stop rain You left your comb by the yellow tile sink I found it later behind the drink The envelope waits in the teakwood shade Next to a watch with a dead black face I meant to send it before the dawn But the kettle clicked, and the day moved on Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Now I hear monsoon on the windowpanes The ink has spread where your first name stayed I trace that line with my thumb each night Then close the wood and kill the light Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer Still in the drawer