The story behind this song
He counted the steps against her ear that first night — one-two-three, his palm sweating, a rented hall and a rented band, the trumpet player butchering the tune. All these years later the band is a phone propped on the counter and dinner's about to burn, but he still pulls her up from the dishes like she's seventeen.
Same old sway, ballroom to stovetop, his hand no longer shaking because it just knows where it goes. For the wife who saved every dance for him — the first, the last, and all the leaning ones still to come.
Lyrics
Same song, different floor
Your hand still asks me like before
Your hand still asks me like before
You counted steps against my ear
One-two-three, your palm was sweating
Rented hall and rented band
The night that started everything
One-two-three, your palm was sweating
Rented hall and rented band
The night that started everything
Now the band's a phone on the counter
And dinner's gonna burn
And dinner's gonna burn
First dance, last dance, every dance between
You still pull me from the dishes like I'm seventeen
From the ballroom to the stovetop, same old sway
Husband, save the last one for me
Like you saved the first — and every day
You still pull me from the dishes like I'm seventeen
From the ballroom to the stovetop, same old sway
Husband, save the last one for me
Like you saved the first — and every day
Sauce is simmering, you hum the tune
The one the trumpet player butchered
My socks slide on the kitchen tile
You catch me — you were always going to
The one the trumpet player butchered
My socks slide on the kitchen tile
You catch me — you were always going to
Your hand's not shaking anymore
It just knows where it goes
It just knows where it goes
First dance, last dance, every dance between
You still pull me from the dishes like I'm seventeen
From the ballroom to the stovetop, same old sway
Husband, save the last one for me
Like you saved the first — and every day
You still pull me from the dishes like I'm seventeen
From the ballroom to the stovetop, same old sway
Husband, save the last one for me
Like you saved the first — and every day
Someday when we're paper-thin
And the steps are mostly leaning
Hum it anyway, my love
Leaning's still a kind of dancing
And the steps are mostly leaning
Hum it anyway, my love
Leaning's still a kind of dancing
First dance, last dance, every dance between
You still pull me from the dishes like I'm seventeen
From the ballroom to the stovetop, same old sway
Husband, save the last one for me
Like you saved the first — and every day
You still pull me from the dishes like I'm seventeen
From the ballroom to the stovetop, same old sway
Husband, save the last one for me
Like you saved the first — and every day
Turn the burner low
One more time before we go
One more time before we go
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