Wet Clay Groove

(mmmmm-hmm) Standing outside under the street lamp glow

Your window is dark,

your phone is locked and cold Like wet clay spinning on a

wheel too fast

Trying to shape a love that was never meant to last

I still have the dust on my fingers

And the wet clay smell of your kitchen

Now the volume goes up past polite

Oh,

spin the wheel again

Break the shape we made! (ooh-ooh)

Turning it up

in the summer rain

No more games we played

Your blocked number

sits on my screen

But my hands are still covered in gray and green

I'm tracing the outline of your building walls

Waiting for the silence to break

when the night falls (mmmmm-hmm)

Just a wet clay mold in the dark