WHO OWNS HELLO [Intro] At 1:12, she posts from the wash-and-fold. One sock on the cart. Three plays on the phone. Then a face she never met types, "Play that twice." [Verse 1] By two, the clip is crossing streets she never knew. By four, a kid in Leeds can sing the second tune. The big room made the road, paid guards, kept on the sign, held the stream when ten thousand came in at one time. No van, no list, no friend at each new town, just one small post, then feet from all around. She could not buy that map with tips inside a jar. The feed put strange eyes on a song made by the carts. Who owns hello when the feed moves on? Who owns the room when the feed is gone? [Verse 2] Morning shows a crowd; noon shows the split. The room sold all the seats, then took its share of it. The ad paid for the walls, so the walls picked what was safe. One wrong word lost the sign above her name. She learned to trim the edge before she pressed send, learned which part of her face made strangers stay till ten. The door stayed wide, but changed where it would lead. She fed the thing that found her so it might find her next week. [Verse 3] Then came a room with one small fee to pay, no hand above the switch, no brand to please all day. Her people brought their own chairs, tipped straight from the rail. She kept the names they gave and wrote them when the stream failed. She sang the verse they cut. No red mark crossed the screen. Five true fans could fund the work five thousand only streamed. The key sat in her palm. The mic stayed on past two. For once the house felt like the house belonged to who came through. Who owns hello when the feed moves on? Who owns the room when the feed is gone? The wide hall owns the map. The small room hands you the lock. [Verse 4] Friday, she goes live. Nine names blink in. She posts the link at lunch, at five, at six again. Freedom kept the full plate. It could not fill the seats. No next-up lane, no chance guest walking in from down the street. The rich man paid the rent while loss looked like a deal. The floor stayed cheap because his deeper floor was sealed. She owned the guest list, yes. She also had to knock, then leave her freer room to beg the wide hall for a spot. [Chorus] Who owns hello when the feed moves on? Who owns the room when the feed is gone? One door brings the crowd, then keeps the key. One door gives the key, but who will come to see? Who owns hello? Who owns goodbye? [Verse 5] At dawn, two keys lie by the dryer sheet. One has a bright red tag. One has no mark to read. Her phone knows ten thousand faces, none she can call. Her book knows forty names, not one came through the wall. She turns both keys and hears two kinds of cost: one takes a cut from what it found; one cannot find what's lost. The last load stops. The glass door shows her face. She holds the song between the lock and the crowded place. [Chorus] Who owns hello when the feed moves on? Who owns the room when the feed is gone? One door brings the crowd, then keeps the key. One door gives the key, but who will come to see? Who owns hello? Who owns goodbye? [Outro] Two keys. One song. The dryers turn. Loop Who owns hello when the feed moves on? Who owns the room when the feed is gone? One door brings the crowd, then keeps the key. One door gives the key, but who will come to see? Who owns hello? Who owns goodbye? mBaileyz
