Walk me home
Still plays the eighty-dollar guitar he bought at nineteen and refuses better ones
the numbers
- bpm
- 92
- key
- G minor
- energy
- 0.71
- dance
- 0.95
- valence
- 0.56
- vocal at
- 4.5s
- length
- 4:24
- language
- En
lyrics
My shirt still smells like beer and rain Boot heel cracked on Rainey Lane I left at one with my head in a spin Took Congress back with the taste of gin My knuckles bled on a truck-stop sink I stared at the mirror, didn’t dare to blink A black sedan hissed by on the curb I kept my mouth shut, swallowed every word Now the moon sat low on the Travis line My hands on my pockets, my breath on time I counted the cracks in the sidewalk seam Trying to drag myself back home from the dream Walk me home Walk me home Walk me home Walk me home The taco stand closed, the chair still up A paper cup rolled past the busted bus stop My phone showed two missed calls at three I let that screen glow dead in my palm for me At the 7-Eleven, I bought some water cold Paid in nickels and a dollar fold I heard my boots on the gravel road Each step hit hard with the weight I hold Now the moon sat low on the Travis line My hands on my pockets, my breath on time I counted the cracks in the sidewalk seam Trying to drag myself back home from the dream Walk me home Walk me home Walk me home Walk me home By the laundromat, the windows steamed A busted umbrella leaned by the machine I said, "Boy, you made a mess of this" Then I laughed once, just to swallow the hiss Walk me home Walk me home Walk me home Walk me home