[Verse 1]
Late-night corner, subway sparks on the tiles,
Your silhouette a halo through the rain-streaked file.
Cigarette ember, a flash—your laugh on replay,
Reflection on the glass, midnight prints where we sway.
Heartbeat, heat, quick-steel street — the city keeps time,
Neon halos fracture, but your pupils still mine.
You fold up my map, toss the past to the curb,
I catch a skyline promise in the way your iris curves.
[Pre-Chorus]
No words — just pressure, like a vinyl crack that grows,
My compass spins toward you, every north I know goes.
You’re the hush under sirens, the pause in my breath,
Tension builds like thunder, then slides into rest.
[Chorus]
Into your eyes — I crash, I breathe,
Streets fade out — you’re all I need.
City noise low, your light repeats,
Hold the line — pull me to the beat.
[Verse 2]
Subway sparks, your reflection on the glass at midnight,
We trade small confessions under flickering streetlight.
Your laugh carves constellations on my cracked-up sleeve,
Every secret we exchange is a reason to believe.
Footsteps sync with a drum in the sidewalk seam,
Leather jacket, warm coffee, corner booth daydream.
You sketch tomorrow in the steam on my coat,
I read the route back home in the way your lashes float.
[Pre-Chorus - Variation]
No labels, just gravity, a soft pull in my chest,
Like a verse unfinished, you return what I confessed.
Tension flips to color — low hum to a sweep,
You turn the static golden, make me promise to keep.
[Chorus]
Into your eyes — I crash, I breathe,
Streets fade out — you’re all I need.
City noise low, your light repeats,
Hold the line — pull me to the beat.
[Rap / Spoken — 16 bars]
Bar 1: Midnight walker, heartbeat talker, I pace the block, I stalk the clock.
Bar 2: Neon drip on concrete creases, your glance slices doubt into little pieces.
Bar 3: I carry scars like subway cards, stamped and folded, stories marred.
Bar 4: You press your palm to the window, trace my outline, I’m unbarred.
Bar 5: Doubt used to tape my mouth shut, used to fold me flat,
Bar 6: But your stare rewired the skyline — rerouted every path.
Bar 7: Internal rhymes, little crimes, I confess in hard light,
Bar 8: You answer with the quiet kind of love that holds on tight.
Bar 9: I thought I’d be the lone wolf, roving rooftops, restless knees,
Bar 10: But you taught me how to anchor; taught stillness how to breathe.
Bar 11: We traded fears for a playlist, slow songs on fast trains,
Bar 12: Your eyes signed over my winter, cashed out all my refrains.
Bar 13: Here’s the twist — I carried doubt like an old, heavy coat,
Bar 14: You unbuttoned it gently, said, “Stay.” I felt my vote.
Bar 15: So when city lights fracture, and old routes look like lies,
Bar 16: I fold the map, set fire to the why — I go where your vision flies.
[Bridge — Turning Point]
I used to run from mirrors, from the stories in glass,
Afraid of what reflection would show of my past.
But standing here beneath your pulse, I make a choice,
To trade a thousand lonely roads for the sound of
