[Verse 1] You pull up in them low-rise jeans Flip phone glow on your face DJ drops our secret thing And the whole room starts to sway
Half-price drinks and plastic cups We don’t care We’re rich in time You grab my hand on the 1 We lose the count by 9
[Chorus] Back when the floor was ours Spinning like burnt CDs Hands up for every chorus Names carved in the backroom seats We didn’t know about tomorrow We just got lost in the doors Of every night Every borrowed light Back when the floor was ours (hey!)
[Verse 2] You shout over the speaker stack “Don’t you dare go home yet” Neon wristband Fake ID laugh Sweat on your glittered neck
Photo booth flash We miss the frame All teeth All blur All joy Song comes in That same old phrase We scream it like it’s our voice (oh yeah)
[Chorus] Back when the floor was ours Spinning like burnt CDs Hands up for every chorus Names carved in the backroom seats We didn’t know about tomorrow We just got lost in the doors Of every night Every borrowed light Back when the floor was ours (ours, ours)
Stile di musica
Early-2000s funky house groove, 124 BPM, steady four-on-the-floor kick, rubbery bass, chopped guitar licks, and bright filtered disco samples. Male vocals laid tight and rhythmic, with stacked call-and-response hooks in the chorus. Short synth stabs and crowd-style shouts lift transitions; breakdown ducks the beat under a sweeping filter before the final chorus hits hard., funky