Семь Пятниц - Streets (Acoustic Version)

семь пятниц - 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