Track Insight / Lyrics
I press the shutter, a breath of light in a grainy swirl,
The bus glides past—glint of chrome, a metallic sigh,
Stepping into the fray, my wallet's dim, my pulse, a thud,
The Polaroid drips in, colors bleeding slow.
I stash the picture where my dreams drag like glue,
Strings vibrate in the corner, a quartet humming low,
My sneakers squeak on cracked pavement, voices echo, low‑end,
Footsteps answer, my camera clicks, I run toward dawn.
The thinning frame turns gray on the edge of leather,
I trace the edges with a thumb—sharp, uneven line,
The bus wheels spin in memory, a whirl of orange,
My shout lost in the slam of a closing door.
I hold the fading Polaroid, liquid summer in ink,
The quartet settles on my chest, shaking, low,
Buses pull away, lights bleed into my palm,
I walk, camera in hand, the wallet heavy with echoes.
