Soft Hands · Album · Track 2
20 Aug 2026 · 3:35 · R&B & Soul · 227 plays
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Lyrics
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I found out from somebody else,
which I've decided not to mention,
which is the first sign that something's off
because I mention everything.
And I typed the message twice.
Deleted the first one for being too much.
Sent the second one an hour later
with an exclamation mark I had to think about.
And I am glad. That's the thing. I am actually glad —
Glad for you. (glad for you)
Glad for you, and I feel sick —
both at full volume, neither switching off.
Don't ask me to pick one.
I've tried. It doesn't work like that.
We started at the same time. Same rooms.
Same nothing, same bad year, same borrowed gear.
And you kept going on the days I didn't,
which is not luck, whatever I tell myself at night.
I've been calling it timing for a while now.
Timing's the word I use to stay comfortable.
The ugly part isn't wanting what you've got.
The ugly part is the small hope, once, that it wouldn't happen —
And there's a thing about two inches under it
I'd rather you never saw.
I let it have a bad hour.
Then I put it back in the box.
Because I could go quiet on you.
That's how it usually goes — no argument, just a slow fade,
a man who's suddenly always busy.
I've watched other people do it.
I know exactly how it's done.
I'm not doing it.
I'm at the thing on the night. Front row.
I'll be the loud one and I'll mean it,
and the other thing can sit in the car.
Envy's only dangerous
when you swear you haven't got it.
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