Heavy Sugar · Album · Track 7
8 Aug 2026 · 4:24 · Motown · 142 plays
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Lyrics
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Singer gets the flowers,
guitar man gets the girls,
somebody writes about the horn line
like it fell out of the sky.
Meanwhile back behind the riser
sits the reason there's a song:
a woman with a steady left hand
who has never once been wrong.
Take her out for one whole minute,
watch the whole thing come apart —
Ask the drummer! (ask the drummer!)
Ask who's holding up the floor!
Ain't nobody clapping for the beat!
Every party in this city
stands on somebody keeping time —
and the ones who keep the time
never get a solo.
And it ain't just in the music,
that's just where you see it plain:
somebody's mother runs a household
like a section runs a chart.
Somebody opens up the diner
at an hour with no name.
Nobody writes a poem for the pocket.
The pocket holds the world.
So the next time something's working,
ask yourself who's counting —
Ask who never dropped the one!
Ask 'em what they're owed and watch 'em shrug!
they don't want a solo.
They want you to notice once.
Keep it! (keep it!)
Hold it! (hold it!)
Who's the reason? (SHE IS!)
Say it! (SHE IS!)
This one's for the steady hands
in every building on this block —
the ones who make it look like nothing,
the ones who make it hold.
Take a bow. Take a solo.
Band'll wait. We got all night.
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