Track Insight / Lyrics
I sit on the back of a midnight bus, tire squeal paints the glass.
The battery coughs, a low hum like an old sax in the alley.
Frames of shattered windows, I snap the shadows into pixels.
A voicemail icon fades, one click per echo I delete.
New light spills over the bumper, orange grit soaking the asphalt.
I scroll, the voice speakers hiss like a forgotten radio tune.
Each call I erase is a step, a weight lifted off the handlebars.
The camera records the road as it glides past, bright verbs in motion.
The dust of the train platform clings to my lens; I capture every grain.
A call prints like a billboard, its name blurs to gray in my ejector.
I slide the phone's final message into the trash, a sliver of night.
The bus passes, its wheels drafting lines on the concrete, a rhythm.
The sun flickers through the window, a broken crystal on the floor.
I don't need to recall the words, just feel the shift in the pedal.
One voicemail disappears, the screen clears, the road stretches ahead.
My shutter clicks a beat, a bittersweet rush, until the drive ends.
