TOP OF THE SPIRE [Intro – spoken, low and gritty] Yeah… From the east coast of Aotearoa, but I hear that West Coast sound… Concrete, sirens, rain on glass… Everybody's got a story. You just gotta listen. [Verse 1 – Me] I'm from the east side, where the ocean meets the land, But the city got a rhythm that I understand. West Coast grit in the soles of my shoes, Grey skies overhead, got nothing to lose. I see people sleeping underneath neon signs, Counting out their dollars, counting down their lives. And I ain't gonna judge what I don't understand, 'Cause desperation can change any woman or man. They say, "Get a job," like the jobs just wait, "Find somewhere to sleep," when there's no entry on the gate. Soup kitchen full, shelter's got no room, So where does somebody go when the streets become their tomb? [Hook] From the bottom of the concrete To the top of the spire, Everybody's got a story, Everybody's got a fire. Look down from the skyline, Tell me what you see— The city ain't just buildings, It's people trying to breathe. [Verse 2 – Homeless family] Young mum with two kids and a bag in her hand, Trying to make a home where she barely can stand. School starts Monday, but where will they sleep? She tells the little ones, "Everything's gonna be sweet." She hides the fear when the children are near, Smiles through the night while she swallows her tears. No villain in the story, no easy way out, Just a mother fighting through the night while everybody shouts!. [Verse 3 – The addict] He's wired through the night with a storm in his head, Trading tomorrow for something instead. People see the pipe, they don't see the pain, Don't see the person underneath the shame. Maybe he wanted a life, maybe he lost his way, Maybe one bad choice became every day. Call him a junkie, walk past, don't stare— But somebody loved him before he ended up there. [Verse 4 – The hooker] She walks beneath the streetlight, heels on the rain, Selling pieces of herself just to soften the pain. Maybe it's rent, maybe it's food, maybe debt, Maybe there's a little girl she's trying to protect. For every person she takes, she loses another bit of light behind her eyes, You can judge from the window of your warm-lit car, But you don't know the road that brought her this far. Every face has a history, every scar has a name, Sometimes survival doesn't look like a game. [Verse 5 – The old] Old man sitting quietly, heating turned low, Counting every dollar that he's got left to go. Worked all his life, paid every bill, Now the price of living's climbing uphill. Pension in one hand, rent in the other, Choosing between heating and food for supper. He built up the streets that we're walking on now, But who's building a future for him somehow? [Bridge – stripped back, spoken/rap] And I hear the city breathing… Behind every doorway there's a life. Behind every cardboard bed, There's somebody who once had a dream. You don't have to know their story To know they deserve to be seen. [Hook – bigger] From the bottom of the concrete To the top of the spire, Everybody's got a story, Everybody's got a fire. Look down from the skyline, Tell me what you see— The city ain't just buildings, It's people trying to breathe. [Final Verse] So I'm standing at the top, looking down through the rain, Wondering how many people disappeared in the pain. East Coast heart with a West Coast sound, Trying to give a voice to the ones underground. I don't claim answers, I don't claim to know, I just know what I see when the cold winds blow. If there's room at the table, pull another chair, 'Cause a city ain't a city if nobody cares. [Outro – whispered] From the concrete… To the skyline… From the bottom… To the top of the spire… Look again. They're still there.
