Still on the mat
Three sisters, one of whom is not actually a sister, and nobody will say which
the numbers
- bpm
- 123
- key
- E minor
- energy
- 0.69
- dance
- 0.93
- valence
- 0.52
- vocal at
- 0.3s
- length
- 1:56
- language
- En
lyrics
Got back to Lygon with my keys in my fist Milk crate by the door where my boot used to sit Your name on the buzzer, scratched out in green New lock on the flat and a dead brass screen The hallway smells like bleach and chips My old coat hangs on somebody else's lip I stand there hard with my Red Band tin Watching the gap where I used to fit in Still on the mat Still on the mat Still on the mat Still on the mat Back room’s full of boxes, a broken foldout bed Three cracked beer mugs and a fan in my head You got a kid now, a tiny blue plate I’m late for my own ghost at the screen door gate Still on the mat Still on the mat Still on the mat Still on the mat Mum’s old scarf in a snagged calico bag My thumb on the latch and the hinge starts to drag No one asks where I’ve been all year They’ve got their own noise, and mine ain’t here Still on the mat Still on the mat Still on the mat Still on the mat