Instant pace, neon veins,
I’m a spark in the subway drain.
Kick the beat through the turnstile ghost,
graffiti lungs in a midnight boast.
Time melts like vinyl black,
boots on the boulevard, no look back.
Flash of chrome, heartbeat loud,
city’s my amp, I’m the feedback crowd.
Run it, run it—never collapse,
every breath is a thunderclap.