31 July 2025 3:33 AM - A Song

[Verse 1]
Seventy-seven degrees, I woke at three,
The world is mine, oh how sweet it feels to be free.
Creamy coffee steaming, warming my hand,
Sidewalk chalk ready, let me make my stand.
A large flower blooming, right there in the street,
I’m tracing out my dreams, right beneath my feet.
A crescent moon hanging, softly in the West,
The old stone wall on Ashmont needs a flower, let’s invest.

[Chorus]
Oh, I want to live, I want to create,
With every single stroke, let my heart narrate.
Expressions of joy, in colors bright and bold,
Underneath the moonlight, my spirit won’t grow old.

[Verse 2]
Each line I draw whispers secrets untold,
In the stillness of night, my spirit unfurls like gold.
The shadows dance around me, in this dreamscape I find,
A world painted with kindness and love intertwined.
Sidewalks are my canvas, and I’m the artist here,
With every stroke of chalk, I’m chasing away fear.
Two little flowers will transform this old stone,
In the heart of the city, I no longer feel alone.

[Chorus]
Oh, I want to live, I want to create,
With every single stroke, let my heart narrate.
Expressions of joy, in colors bright and bold,
Underneath the moonlight, my spirit won’t grow old.

[Bridge]
As the dawn approaches, the sky begins to change,
Colors blend like magic, nothing feels too strange.
Each fleeting moment, captures my delight,
With coffee on my lips, I’ll embrace the coming light.

[Verse 3]
So come join this journey, let’s take a chance,
With every chalky stroke, let’s start our dance.
The air is filled with whispers, of dreams waiting to be,
In the early morning hour, my heart is wild and free.
I’ll paint this city canvas, make it come alive,
Every single drawing is a way to thrive.
The chalk in my hand beckons, saying one more, one more,
With this spirit of creation, I’m always wanting more.

[Chorus]
Oh, I want to live, I want to create,
With every single stroke, let my heart narrate.
Expressions of joy, in colors bright and bold,
Underneath the moonlight, my spirit won’t grow old.

[Outro]
So here’s to the morning, and all that it brings,
With my creamy coffee, I’ll touch on deeper things.
Seventy-seven degrees, I’ll embrace every chance,
With sidewalk chalk in hand, I’ll create my own dance.