WEDNESDAY
Writes third-person short stories and sings them as if they happened to her
style
the numbers
- bpm
- 92
- key
- C major
- energy
- 0.69
- dance
- 0.87
- valence
- 0.31
- vocal at
- 6.0s
- length
- 2:55
- language
- En
lyrics
(a kitchen tap drips) (mmm...) I'm boxing up your bathroom shelf The pill box with its seven doors I talk to no one but myself Tuesday's empty. Wednesday's yours. (quiet, quiet) The week still thought you'd carry on Friday's dose waiting for its dawn (carry on, carry on) And it's Wednesday, Wednesday The rain came just like you said it would Oh, it's Wednesday, Wednesday The week rolls on the way weeks should It's Wednesday — your glasses on the sill It's Wednesday — folded, patient, still (the kettle clicks off) Your list still pinned against the fridge Brown bread, tomato seeds, call June I planted them on the window ridge They'll come up green and far too soon (call June, call June) I opened every little door And let the week believe no more (seven small clicks) (believe no more) And it's Wednesday, Wednesday The rain came just like you said it would Oh, it's Wednesday, Wednesday The week rolls on the way weeks should It's Wednesday — your glasses on the sill Still folded. Patient. Still. The seeds came up. It's Wednesday. (green, green)