[Verse 1]
Salt on the breeze, factory lights blink on the coast
Diesel in the alleys, market cries, a mother holds the ghost
Plastic waves at low tide, nets tangled with yesterday
Yacine walks the shoreline, palms callused, plans to change the day
He counts the ash in rainwater, counts the broken streetlamps too
Maps the dumps behind the port where the gulls once learned to fly
Concrete and citrus trees, old men with coffee, children play
He keeps the rhythm in his chest — a cadence to remake
[Pre-Chorus]
Step by step, he studies every corner, every scar
Notes the names, the narrow lanes, the light that used to spar
With the sea — he feels the pull, a promise under his ribs
Yacine hums the city song and plots a plan to lift
[Chorus — Short]
Yacine rise — from smoke to sunrise
Gabes on his back, future in his eyes
[Verse 2]
He speaks in small, sharp actions: clean-ups on a Sunday dawn
Picks the plastic from the gutter where the fishermen once launched
Organizes talks in coffee shops; he passes out the maps
Planting seedlings in the medina where the courtyard cracks
He trades slogans for blueprints, for tractors and for teams
Crowds that used to whisper now are scheming better dreams
He smells the salt again, the cumin, bread, and sea-salt spray
Turns complaint into a cadence, every step a line to say
[Pre-Chorus]
From market alleys to the port lights glowing like a plea
He stitches neighbors to a plan — renewable, steady, free
Small boats, cleaner harbors, shade where kids can play
Yacine moves in measured bars, in work that won't decay
[Chorus — Punchier]
Yacine rise — from smoke to sunrise
Gabes on his back, future in his eyes
(Yacine rise) — from smoke to sunrise
(Gabes on his back) — future in his eyes
[Bridge]
Now he calls the volunteers, the elders, students, hands unite
They plant rows of olive trees, they sweep the beaches at twilight
They file for permits, fund a pump, rebuild the broken drains
Teach the kids to fish clean nets, turn toxins into names
He turns protest into practice — organizes, then plants
A revolution in the soil, not just in the chants
Punchline: when the coast breathes better, the whole city learns to rise
[Final Chorus — Full, with ad-libs]
Yacine rise — from smoke to sunrise (rise up, rise up)
Gabes on his back, future in his eyes (future in his eyes)
From the alleys to the harbor lights, hear the city amplify (we rise)
From the bottles to the orchards — watch the old wounds heal and dry (whoa)
Yacine rise — from smoke to sunrise (yeah, yeah)
Gabes on his back, future in his eyes (future in his eyes)
[Outro]
Salt on the breeze, but cleaner every year
Factory lights still glow, now they run on brighter gears
Yacine keeps walking — steadfast, steady, never done
A small city, a loud heart — and the morning finally won
