My Knees Sound Like Gravel

Family memory

Tia Dieu's workout mix — the honest soundtrack when every squat announces itself.

Lyrics

Transcribed from the recording — close to the song, but not always word-perfect.

Look, my knees sound like a bag of gravel when I drop it low
30 something in the mirror, yeah I'm still the show
Did a lunge, heard a click, did another, felt the snap
Now I'm staring at the floor, taking mental naps
I need a three day recovery just to walk the dog
Kneeling down like I'm praying to the fitness god
But when the flash hits the quad, yeah I'm looking like a vision
Digital filters hiding all the physical friction
Dropping on for the gram, but my facts ain't no
Still a banger in the gym, even if I'm moving slow
Squat it down 2k gear, I'm never gonna stop
Unless my joints give out, give out, then somebody call the lift
Fears for the camera, clicking like a dial-up
Recurring the bed, recurring the bed, but I'm looking like a flyer
I got the ankle weights on, like I'm still in 23
But the minute Chris is looking like my worst enemy
Stairmaster climbing like I'm looking for a thrill
But I'm counting every step for the eventual bill
I'm icing down the hamstrings while I edit the reel
Pretending that this protein shake is actually a meal
Still the flyest in the room with the clicking and the ache
I'm a vintage masterpiece for goodness sake
Dropping on for the gram, but my facts ain't no
Still a banger in the gym, even if I'm moving slow
Squat it down 2k gear, I'm never gonna stop
Unless my joints give out, give out, then somebody call the lift
Fears for the camera, clicking like a dial-up
Recurring the bed, recurring the bed, but I'm looking like a flyer
Get low weight, get low up
Three days of pain for one minute of fame
I can't feel my glutes, but I can feel the flame
Snap, crackle, pop, and I'm still on top
Don't you dare touch that stop button
Dropping on for the gram, but my facts ain't no
Still a banger in the gym, even if I'm moving slow
Squat it down 2k gear, I'm never gonna stop
Unless my joints give out, give out, then somebody call the lift
Fears for the camera, clicking like a dial-up
Recurring the bed, recurring the bed, but I'm looking like a flyer
Yeah, okay, somebody help me up
Where's the bio-freeze? Is that a walker?
No, I'm just stretching, their recovery starts now
Catch you in 72 hours, peace