The Betting Slip
Four men who have played the same four chords since 1986 and finally got them right
vex on it
the runHonest use case: People who enjoy nostalgic, slightly self-deprecating love songs with a strong, repetitive hook.
Exhibit: “They say quit while you're ahead. I'm never ahead — I'm yours instead.”
style
the numbers
- bpm
- 136
- key
- C# major
- energy
- 0.68
- dance
- 0.95
- valence
- 0.60
- vocal at
- 4.2s
- length
- 3:39
- words
- 188
- clichés
- 0
- language
- En
most sung: “bet” ×6 · “lost” ×3 · “i'm” ×3
lyrics
I lost a tenner on the dogs, my brolly on the seven bus, I lost my keys in Tuesday's fog, but somehow, love, I never lost us. The bookie shakes his head at me. You shake your hips. I'm history. All on you, all on you, I'd bet it all on you, the odds are daft, a hundred-to-two, but all on you, all on you — the only bet I know comes true. The fruit machine ate my last quid, three lemons grinning in a row. Then you walked in, and heaven forbid — the lights came on, the works, the show. All on you, all on you, I'd bet it all on you, the odds are daft, a hundred-to-two, but all on you, all on you — the only bet I know comes true. They say quit while you're ahead. I'm never ahead — I'm yours instead. All on you, all on you, I'd bet it all on you, the odds are daft, a hundred-to-two, but all on you, all on you — the only bet I know comes true. All on you! All on you!