Streets (Acoustic Version)

Sidewalk chalk on your palms Your headphones tangled, always Never ask for permission, do you? Staring at the speakers, not the sirens Longer morning, slower news I lose you to the heartbeat of the crowd Phones held high, you say it’s all about the movement now You’re dancing at protests again Shoes mud-stained, hands turned skyward Dancing at protests again You said joy is a language, sometimes refusal Dancing at protests again I wait at the curb for you Taxi meter running, summer heat in the glass Your shadow spins, a blurry loop I watch from the corner, not ready to follow You stop for a moment A bird lands, unnoticed by anyone but you Voices rising, you close your eyes I call your name, softer every time You’re dancing at protests again Shoes mud-stained, hands turned skyward Dancing at protests again And i’m here, and you’re gone, and you’re moving