[male
vocals] (
Soft,
resonant
acoustic
guitar
picking) (
Deep,
rhythmic
bass
pulse) (
Distant
city
sirens
fading
into
silence)
The
shadows
stretch
across
the
central
square
I’
m
breathing
in
the
heavy
mountain
air
You
left
before
the
coffee
turned
to
cold
A
story
of
the
hustle
never
told
The
streets
of
San
José
are
paved
with
ghosts
Of
all
the
things
I
needed,
needed
most
I’
m
walking
past
the
statues
in
the
rain
Trying
to
wash
away
this
growing
pain
I
see
your
face
in
every
crowded
bus
But
distance
grew
a
wall
between
the
us
I’
m
searching
for
a
reason
in
the
dark
Trying
to
light
a
dying,
lonely
spark.
Oh,
Mom,
the
city’
s
grinding
gears
are
loud
I’
m
looking
for
your
spirit
in
the
crowd
You
chased
the
horizon,
left
me
behind
With
nothing
but
the
memories
to
find
It’
s
hard
to
keep
the
hustle
in
my
soul
When
half
of
me
is
missing,
incomplete,
and
whole
Yeah,
the
hustle
is
a
lonely,
bitter
trade
Watching
all
the
promises
you
made
start
to
fade.
I
remember
how
you
spoke
of
better
days
Lost
within
the
shifting,
urban
haze
You
said
you
had
to
run
to
make
it
right
Disappearing
in
the
velvet
night
Now
I’
m
working
double
shifts
to
pay
the
rent
Wondering
where
the
golden
years
all
went
The
politicians
promise
us
the
moon
But
every
song
they
sing
is
out
of
tune
I’
m
building
up
my
life
stone
by
stone
But
building
it
has
left
me
all
alone
Every
sunrise
is
a
battle
I
must
win
Just
to
keep
the
chaos
from
creeping
in.
Oh,
Mom,
the
city’
s
grinding
gears
are
loud
I’
m
looking
for
your
spirit
in
the
crowd
You
chased
the
horizon,
left
me
behind
With
nothing
but
the
memories
to
find
It’
s
hard
to
keep
the
hustle
in
my
soul
When
half
of
me
is
missing,
incomplete,
and
whole
Yeah,
the
hustle
is
a
lonely,
bitter
trade
Watching
all
the
promises
you
made
start
to
fade.
Does
the
wind
blow
softer
where
you
are?
Do
you
ever
look
up
at
the
same
North
Star?
I’
m
not
angry,
I’
m
just
tired
of
the
wait
Staring
at
the
closing
of
the
gate
The
hustle
is
my
armor,
hard
and
deep
But
there
are
secrets
that
I
cannot
keep.
Oh,
Mom,
the
city’
s
grinding
gears
are
loud
I’
m
looking
for
your
spirit
in
the
crowd
You
chased
the
horizon,
left
me
behind
With
nothing
but
the
memories
to
find
It’
s
hard
to
keep
the
hustle
in
my
soul
When
half
of
me
is
missing,
incomplete,
and
whole
Yeah,
the
hustle
is
a
lonely,
bitter
trade
Watching
all
the
promises
you
made
start
to
fade. (
Acoustic
guitar
slowly
fades)
Just
another
night
in
the
capital
I’
m
still
here,
Mom.
I’
m
still
here. (
Final
chord
rings
out
into
silence)