[Intro — spoken through a smirk, guitar squeal underneath]
Sugar… the line moved but I didn’t…
Somebody call the fire department, ’cause this is arson…
[Verse 1]
Register light strobin’ like a heartbeat gone electric
Grease and glory, hallelujah, so eclectic
She ain’t walk in — she arrived, like weather with a name
Static in the napkin dispenser, callin’ out my shame
I ordered air. I ordered nothin’. I ordered wrong
Tongue took a vacation, forgot the whole dang song
Black like a Sunday, black like a secret
Pants like a rumor that the whole block’s gotta keep it
[Pre-Chorus]
Manager yellin’ numbers, I don’t hear a one
Standin’ in the drive-thru of the human sun
Somebody unplug the fryer, somebody dim the sign
‘Cause the only thing that’s cookin’ is this heart of mine
[Chorus]
Black yoga pants, quantum physics
Bendin’ up the whole room, breakin’ all the rules with it
Ain’t polite to stare but the Lord don’t mind
2-for-1 special, but she’s one of a kind
Black yoga pants, don’t explain it
Some things you just feel, baby, you don’t say it
Combo, extra, hold the small talk
Let the whole world wait, girl, let ’em all watch
[Verse 2]
She’s readin’ the menu like it’s Sunday scripture
Ice in her cup make a sound like a picture
I say somethin’ dumb about the weather bein’ strange
She say “It’s always strange when somebody’s tryna change”
And I don’t know if that’s a riddle or a door
But I’m walkin’ through it anyway, what’s a heart for?
[Bridge — stripped to just bass and breath]
Mmm — nobody taught me the words for this
Ain’t a science, ain’t a checklist
Just a woman and a hum in the air
And a boy forgettin’ how to order anywhere—
[Chorus — bigger, one guitar note bent way up]
Black yoga pants, quantum physics
Bendin’ up the whole room, breakin’ all the rules with it
Ain’t polite to stare but the Lord don’t mind
2-for-1 special, but she’s one of a kind
Black yoga pants, don’t explain it
Some things you just feel, baby, you don’t say it
Combo, extra, hold the small talk
Let the whole world wait, girl, let ’em all watch
[Outro — spoken, dry, half-laughing]
Tray got cold…
Fries got cold…
I did not care one bit…
