[Intro: soft broom sweeps, a distant bus hisses] [Verse 1] Five in the morning, whole block's out cold, Broom in my hand, got a rhythm to hold. Watch the bristles scatter cigarette butts and leaves, My arms know the job, so my head gets a reprieve. The curb's got a film from last night's rain, Push it to the drain, do it all again. [Chorus] Sweep it clean, let the sun hit the stone, This stretch of sidewalk's a world of its own. No clock on my back, no weight in my chest, The broom and I, we're just doing our best. [Verse 2] Old man in a beanie nods and walks by, Says "keep it fresh," with a glint in his eye. I don't do this for glory, don't do it for thanks, But the street starts to sparkle where my shadow banks. People rush past with their phones and their wars, I'm down here with the dust, and I call it ours. [Chorus] Sweep it clean, let the sun hit the stone, This stretch of sidewalk's a world of its own. No clock on my back, no weight in my chest, The broom and I, we're just doing our best.
