Crayon‑Scarred Sun

Lyrics

[Verse 1] The kettle whistles in the kitchen, steam curls up like a question mark. My phone's screen is still dark, the alarm clock's stuck on 6:07. I wipe the coffee foam from my mug, taste the bitter bite of new beginnings. Outside, the streetlamp flickers like a nervous pulse, waiting for me to decide. [Pre‑Chorus] I take a breath, the air smells like rain on hot asphalt, And I hear my own heartbeat echo through the empty hallway. The city hums a low rhythm that matches my pulse, Just another rhythm to dance with before the day begins. [Chorus] So I step out, step out, let the sidewalk feel my soles, The world’s a canvas, I’m painting with my own bold strokes. Every step a story, every breath a promise, Step out, step out, I’m making my own chorus. Step out, step out, no map, no compass, just the wind. [Verse 2] The bus stops, a rusted door opens, and the smell of diesel hits my nose. Faces blur, but I spot a child with a crayon‑scarred hand, drawing a sun. I smile, the warmth spreads, like a secret that only the street knows. I think of all the doors I’ve locked, the times I said “no,” and I feel them open. [Pre‑Chorus] The rhythm of my feet syncs with the rhythm of the city’s beat, The pavement hums a bass line that keeps my pulse in time. I’m moving forward, not because I’ve lost, but because I’m alive. [Chorus] Step out, step out, let the sidewalk feel my soles, The world’s a canvas, I’m painting with my own bold strokes. Every step a story, every breath a promise, Step out, step out, I’m making my own chorus. Step out, step out, no map, no compass, just the wind. [Bridge] The streetlights flicker, the shadows lengthen like a slow song. I pause, hand on the doorframe, feeling the night’s cool breath. In that pause, I hear the city’s soft lullaby – a promise that tomorrow is a clean sheet. I step back into the dark, and I promise myself I’ll find the light again. [Chorus] Step out, step out, let the sidewalk feel my soles, The world’s a canvas, I’m painting with my own bold strokes. Every step a story, every breath a promise, Step out, step out, I’m making my own chorus. Step out, step out, no map, no compass, just the wind. [Outro] The kettle’s off, the day is humming, and I walk toward the sunrise, Ready to step out again.