Lyric

Turnstiles click in measured flow

Bodies pressed in moving tide

Faces glint like stolen snow

Eyes that learn to look aside

Pressure builds in crowded frames

Breath compresses like a spring

Something shifts and someone names

Order in the smaller thing

Push the lane and find the space

Turn the pressure into grace

Hold the line and feel the heat

Make the moment feel complete

Crowds become the steady drum

Chaos folds to rhythm, come

Crowds become the steady drum

Find the center, do not run

Signals blink and platforms sway

Echoes fold into our chest

We become the lighted way

Carried in the urban vest

Hands connect in short relief

Close the gap and share the beat

Movement gives an honest brief

Turns the frantic into feat

Push the lane and find the space

Turn the pressure into grace

Hold the line and feel the heat

Make the moment feel complete

Crowds become the steady drum

Chaos folds to rhythm, come

Crowds become the steady drum

Find the center, do not run

One small step and people clear

Noise becomes a listening ear

Find the single steady thread

Lead it onward, not to dread

After tide retracts its surge

Silence smooths the tightened brow

We step out with calmer urge

Holding what the hour allowed