Tell me clean
From the northeast, moved to the capital, and plays village music at 3am club sets
the numbers
- bpm
- 129
- key
- G minor
- energy
- 0.71
- dance
- 0.95
- valence
- 0.50
- vocal at
- 4.3s
- length
- 3:31
- language
- Th
lyrics
You came with a bag of guava, wet from the rain by the moat. At the red plastic table, you sat so quiet, your phone face-down by the coat. You said my name like a warning, like the bus horn on Rama Four. I saw the truth in your sandal before you even reached the door. Spin it if you want, just say it. Keep your eyes on the floor. I can hear the cup in your hand, I can hear what you came for. Tell me clean Tell me clean Tell me clean Tell me clean You pointed at the temple calendar, June six, folded at the edge. My coffee went cold in the spoon, my keys still hung on the ledge. You said she left at midnight, bag on her knee, no phone. I stared at the rice cooker light and felt the room go bone. Spin it if you want, just say it. Keep your eyes on the floor. I can hear the cup in your hand, I can hear what you came for. Tell me clean Tell me clean Tell me clean Tell me clean Now the fan turns slow above us, the mango on the plate stays still. You don’t look like a traitor, just a friend who paid the bill. Say it once, then leave me standing, let the dust take the rest of the scene. I’d rather taste the hard news than live inside your maybe machine. Tell me clean Tell me clean Tell me clean Tell me clean