Wrong number, right place
Still plays the eighty-dollar guitar he bought at nineteen and refuses better ones
the numbers
- bpm
- 103
- key
- G minor
- energy
- 0.70
- dance
- 0.97
- valence
- 0.56
- vocal at
- 3.1s
- length
- 4:31
- language
- En
lyrics
At 7:14, my thumb slipped fast Sent your name a plea I meant for the past The screen went blue in my coffee shop booth You read it at 7:15 and told me the truth You wrote, “Boy, you missed your mark” But then you kept that spark Said, “Meet me on South Lamar tonight” And I nearly dropped my phone in the light Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place You answered me slow, and you smiled that way I came in by the door with the hinge that moans Boots still muddy from the Barton Creek stones You had two chipped mugs on a scarred-up tray And one red marker on a diner bill sleeve today You said, “That text found me clean” Like a trick in a dream Then you laughed when the sugar bowl slid And your hand found mine like it always did Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place You answered me slow, and you smiled that way Now my old phone sits face down on the wood But I check it like a fool, and it does some good If I miss my turn, I still land near you In a worn-out booth with the vinyl torn through Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place Wrong number, right place You answered me slow, and you smiled that way