Track Insight / Lyrics
I pull the half‑back of my bag, the camera still humming.
Coins slap against the tin, counting each clink like a drip of time.
Buses blur past, yellow lights flicker, and I frame the neon sign.
I stack the pockets, a rhythm on the street that keeps the feed alive.
I can't stop clicking this sunset in a cube of glass.
it's a slow jam under the zip of the city, coins layering like beats.
My lens scratches the memory of the wandering bus brakes.
The vendor shouts numbers, each coin a note that stays bright.
My phone flashes a glitch, the route mapping feels like a drip of code.
Count the pennies, each one dropping, echoing through the cracked pavement.
I lean on the curb giggling at
the alley cat that follows my path
The vendor's wrist twirls, counting, making a beat that syncs the night.
We add a groove with kalimba
chimps in the alleyway loud and low
The vendor hums, shuffling coins like vinyl, and the rhythm persists.
I capture every beat on the back of my wrist, painting wood grain in color.
The street keeps the groove, steady as the bus that never stops.
