Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Wind cut deep on the South Side Salt on my shoes Smoke in my chest Knock on the door in the dark time Asking for papers Asking for breath Sirens sing out like a bad dream Blue and red stains on the snow Kids in the kitchen see the whole thing Coffee gone cold by the window [Chorus] This is our frozen city But our hearts run hot They can cage a body They can’t cage a thought We huddle up tight Share the heat Share the pain Hold my hand Hold my name As we wait on warmer days Don’t let them wash your voice away (oh) Don’t let them wash your voice away [Verse 2] Rust on the tracks by the Green Line Mittens on March through the gray Moms in the crowd with the bread signs “Mi gente se queda ” they say Bus stop glass like a cracked lens Still we look up Still we show up Frozen sidewalks But the word spreads Block by block We speak up [Chorus] This is our frozen city But our hearts run hot They can cage a body They can’t cage a thought We huddle up tight Share the heat Share the pain Hold my hand Hold my name As we wait on warmer days Don’t let them wash your voice away (hey) Don’t let them wash your voice away
Tags
Gritty midtempo hip-hop with soulful male vocals, boom-bap drums, and cold, icy synth pads riding under dusty piano loops; first verse tight and clipped over a stark beat, chorus swells with stacked gospel-style harmonies and a thick bassline, second verse grows more urgent with ad-libs and call-and-response, final hook drops instruments for a bar before slamming back in for a crowd-chant outro, harsh
Duration
2:02
Instrumental
No
Created
1/29/2026