On the corner, at night,
We stand and sing under neon stars,
Playing the same game our father’s played,
Passing the same bottles our brothers passed,
Traffic as our melody.
We sing the music of hard times,
Be it do-wop or hip-hop,
Ballads or blues
To the steady boom-bap of basketballs,
While our people move around us,
Dancing in their natural unknowing way.
Under neon stars,
Sippin’ and singin’,
Hangin’ and jivin’,
(Ain’t we lucky we got em’)
On the corner,