歌词
[Intro] [Verse] Factory docks in a frozen frame A local name for a vocal shame Used to be rivets and unions and pride Now it’s just pilates and poodles inside I’m sketching the truth where the brick is cracked Before the history is white-washed and sacked Dust on the needle, the soul sample loops While the city is jumping through corporate hoops [Hook] Steel city canvas, the paint never dries Underneath the smog and the neon lies We’re the last ones breathing on the brick and stone Making the concrete feel like home Yeah, we’re making the concrete feel like home [Verse] Bodega prices on a vertical climb A lyrical crime in a difficult time Milk costs a dollar more every week The future is looking remarkably bleak My protégé shakes the can, rattle and roll Trying to capture the city’s lost soul I tell him “Steady the hand, mind the drip” Before the whole neighborhood starts to slip Watch the overspray on the artisan glass We’re the ghosts that they watch as they pass [Hook] Steel city canvas, the paint never dries Underneath the smog and the neon lies We’re the last ones breathing on the brick and stone Making the concrete feel like home Yeah, we’re making the concrete feel like home [Bridge] Rhodes keys chiming in the midnight air Blue light flickering, a vacant stare The city’s changing colors, but the primer’s white We’re just trying to win the fight tonight Holding the line in the neon light [Verse] Union man’s face under layers of lime A prayer for the crime of a wasted prime They want a mural of a coffee bean Something polite for the digital screen But we bleed acrylic on the loading bay Turning the rusted-out metal to day Sardonic grin as I cap the black The city is leaving, it ain’t coming back [Post-Chorus] Steel city canvas, the paint never dries Underneath the smog and the neon lies We’re the last ones breathing on the brick and stone Making the concrete feel like home [Verse] Kid looks up with a masked-out face A ghost in a cold and a glass-out space I say “The wall is yours until the sun” Until the curated cleanup has begun They love the art but they hate the artist Survival is craft and the fate is the hardest Keep your outlines sharp and your shadows deep While the rest of the gentrified zip codes sleep [Hook] Steel city canvas, the paint never dries Underneath the smog and the neon lies We’re the last ones breathing on the brick and stone Making the concrete feel like home Yeah, we’re making the concrete feel like home [Outro]
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