Why We Speak

Why We Speak (feat. Q-Tip & Esperanza Spalding)

EQUINOX

Mount Shasta (feat. Marco Bernardis)

crying again

One light climbs brick, city yawns, cones warm, cones blink; I tap four on the rail and the whole block answers. Shoes kiss grit; pulse draws chalk lines on the lane; I carry a pocket of low thunder and let it rumble the dust off names I no longer carry. You step beside me, shoulder to shoulder, and the street learns our measure.

Cajón murmurs under ribs; Rhodes paints a thin ribbon across the curb; turntables tick like sparrows on wire. We keep a vow: move honest, move clear, move kind. No costume, no borrowed fire. I count the downbeat with my heel; you nod yes with your chin; the corner store bell rings like a tiny brass amen—no sermon, only motion.

Hook—We swarm the morning, we make the gold; hands find tempo, courage holds. Feet say ready, hearts say go; light rides bass, the block says grow.

I map the city by subline: mailbox, bus sign, mural, hydrant—every mark gets a tiny quake. Joyfunk guitar skates in the periphery, all palm mutes and wink. A horn answers, sharp then sweet; the lane widens; the air tastes citrus bright. I drop my guard like a heavy coat and feel the day fit better.

Pre—Full self forward, no shadow tricks. Kindness drives, pride downshifts. If I miss the cue, say it plain; I re-align, I widen the frame.

Chorus—Stay lit, stay loud; turn the morning gold. Ride the soft thunder; let the backbone hold. We rise, we roll; no fade, no fold. Swarm of daylight, story retold.

Bridge—Name the bruise; let mercy mend. Tune the hands; let patience send. If truth steps in, we give it room; the groove grows gardens out of gloom.

Drop—Kick strolls long, hats smile wide; sub draws circles; bodies glide. We trade old codes for new clear signs; grit turns glitter on the lines.

Call: Who keeps center? Response: We keep center. Call: Who moves gentle? Response: We move gentle. Call: Where does heat live? Response: Under the ribs. Call: What do we carry? Response: Light that gives.

Final Chorus—Stay lit, stay loud; let the rooftops know. Hands to tempo, eyes on glow. We rise, we roll; no fade, no fold. Swarm of daylight, story retold.

Coda—Crosswalk clicks green; pigeons lift; horns laugh in threes. I file small vows into my pocket: call back fast, hold doors long, thank the hand that steadies. The city nods; we nod back; the day opens like a record sleeve—fresh, familiar, ready to spin.

Swarm

Overload

Ciao

Voyager

The List

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Why We Speak (feat. Q-Tip & Esperanza Spalding)

RobertGlasper